Age – Page 12 – Iron Haiku

sputtering neon-
piles of rags weakly lit by
the staccato glow
–
november night-
threadbare blankets
in the doorway

softly falling rain-
I finally let you go
for your sake and mine
–
glass in his hair-
a husband waits
in anguished silence

well past closing time-
we rehash old war stories
over onion rings
–
a dirty booth-
my chipped coffee cup
bottomless

hourglass summer-
memories of time we spent
slip through my fingers
–
driftwood-
a gull’s shadow
passes by

black ink on paper-
oblivious passengers
riding the subway
–
a soft gong-
the model changes
position again

awaiting the fall-
swayed by the prevailing winds
rotten at the core
–
scrub grass-
remnants of glass
in peeling sashes

stripped down to the waist
sledgehammer and splitting maul
ringing in the sun
–
hazy starlight-
woodsmoke drifts
through the trees

an old shaking hand-
steady as it dips a brush
into the inkwell
–
autumn’s essence-
poems painted
on rice paper

grey evening clouds
gauzy and diaphanous
thinly veil the moon
–
a warm orange glow-
the harvest moon
buried in the clouds

I’m holding my breath-
when I hit bottom I know
you’ll help me exhale
–
ripples of light-
the water’s surface
far above