Age – Page 27 – Iron Haiku

a dusting of snow
years of footfalls revealed in
the worn granite steps
–
an old slate roof-
heavy snow piles
up on the eaves

an ancient copper bell
burnished by the history
of thousands of hands
–
a forest shrine-
autumn mist clings
to the hillside

lonely red roses
walked off from the outside by
a thicket of thorns
–
the sun
our children at play
in the back yard

folding the laundry-
I struggle with the mundane
while fame eludes me
–
feeding the birds-
a passing peacock
opens his tail

a candle and spoon-
unresponsive hazel eyes
far beyond my help
–
first snow-
yesterday’s news
line his shoes

hard rain pelts the trees-
a hummingbird takes shelter
on my windowsill
–
desert noon-
seeking shelter
beneath the sand

strange and foreign shores-
weary travelers embark
on their next journey
–
soft underbrush-
a fawn turns to the
welcoming sun

gauzy hardwood smoke
rises into the night air
obscuring the moon
–
drifting embers-
folding chairs
around the fire

earbuds on silent-
subtly eavesdropping on
your conversation
–
sudden chills-
mantras I whisper
to myself

mirror finished steel-
chrome and crimson upwell as
I lick the razor
–
melting ice-
warm and salty
on my tongue