Afternoon – Iron Haiku

a whitewashed rowboat-
dark supple fingers lightly
crease the still water
–
concentric rings-
arrhythmic
dripping

ripples from skipped stones-
a startled box turtle slips
beneath the surface
–
sudden silence-
dragonflies rest
on dimpled water

asphalt reflections-
roots of concrete, steel, and glass
descend from the mist
–
the muted city-
not quite rain
falling

a windswept sandbar-
terns and driftwood bear witness
to the passing clouds
–
the water’s edge-
a plover’s tracks
turn to sea

passing sun showers-
warm rains tease my garden
with false promises
–
grey soil
peppered brown-
scattered rain

approaching daybreak-
the sea air rimed with salt and
the taste of seaweed
–
sand and foam-
the gull’s cry
lingers

a long delayed train-
remnants of morning rain
steaming in the sun
–
the sun long set-
a silent queue
of glowing screens

slowly clearing skies-
the stillness of rain water
in a fallen leaf
–
soft wet earth-
a new stream born
of autumn rain

shining white marble-
the mourning dove comes to rest
on a lion’s mane
–
time worn steps-
halfway between patience
and fortitude

a neglected path-
moss hides a forgotten shrine
the small gods long gone
–
meditation-
clay teapots
dry in the sun