Age – Page 14 – Iron Haiku

hanging on a strap-
the city moves beneath me
though I’m standing still
–
railway sidings-
rusting beasts
long since dead

vampires do exist-
in fact I’m sure one lives in
this overstuffed couch
–
the forest floor-
twigs and sticks snap
underfoot

rustling blankets-
your padding to the bathroom
teases me from sleep
–
the drive home-
fallen leaves
blanket the road

patiently waiting-
at the terminal rain sheets
down tinted windows
–
autumn evening-
once again
I’m alone

alone on the street
with scarcely a backwards glance
from the passers by
–
three threadbare coats-
his breath still clouds
the autumn night

my back turned to you-
pretending to be asleep as
you climb into bed
–
angry clouds-
blue skies
forgotten

we’re only human
well, some of us anyway
the rest who can say?
–
under the covers
alone with
my mistakes

an old wire pushcart-
she sits alone on her bench
surrounded by birds
–
under the bridge-
her shopping cart
full of treasures

an open textbook-
daydreams try to tease me through
an open window
–
blank paper-
hammers pounding
from the wall clock

softly falling rain-
wandering through the graveyard
in the dead of night
–
overcast-
reading the details
of those long dead