Age – Page 28 – Iron Haiku

downcast hazel eyes-
blistered feet dangle from the
hospital gurney
–
bitter winds-
the horizon
set aglow

cold new england streets-
an old oak tree holds onto
the last leaf of fall
–
first snow-
winter arrives
far too soon

worn jungle jacket-
three tours couldn’t prepare him
for life on the street
–
cold sweat-
desert sands
abrade his dreams

hands neatly folded
pinstripe suit and crisp linens
so properly posed
–
early sunday morning-
freshly turned earth
and rough sawn pine

a black bitter pill
taken with a glass of bile-
so hard to swallow
–
november morn-
the push is over
now I taste salt.

draped across the yard
a patchwork of autumn leaves
quilted by the wind
–
november air-
bronzed oak leaves
litter the ground

black leather collar
tight around my neck lying
prostrate at your feet
–
cold stone-
village pews
stand empty

the telephone rings-
it seems you and I still have
unfinished business
–
woolen socks and
warm apple cider-
my phone in a drawer

staring at the clock
trying to understand the
cruelty of time
–
aching for sleep-
minutes collect
in piles on the floor

no one’s allowed in-
there’s only room for me in
this suit of armor
–
swift water-
armored scales
dimple the surface