wpadmin – Page 72 – Iron Haiku

the burning red orb
casts its gaze about the land
hard and unblinking
–
ragweed-
my eyes swollen
and gritty

as the sun goes down-
I turn the final pages
of this well worn book
–
a ashen moon-
mist descends
upon the moors

the ragtop put down
bare feet up on the dashboard
red hair in the wind
–
pacific coast highway-
california dreamin’
on the radio

bottles of cognac
cast upon volcanic rock
a gift to pele
–
catharsis-
rivers of fire
run to the sea

a rippling sky
cast in all directions by
a child’s rubber boots
–
parting clouds-
blue jays bathe
in tiny ponds

sand hill cranes glide through
frost smoke on a mountain lake
as the day begins
–
coming ashore-
fog blankets
the lighthouse

her worn threadbare coat-
piles of bread crumbs spread between
the bird lady’s feet
–
a park bench-
sparrows land
on my shoulder

tiny ballet shoes-
waiting for the curtain in
crinoline and lace
–
sunday afternoon-
long hours
at the barre

the village emptied
bodies lay unburied with
no one left to mourn
–
tumbleweeds-
sun scoured bones
picked clean

moonlight in the trees-
silently a cold wind shifts
shadows on the snow
–
long shadows-
the warm wind
walks me home