Age – Page 39 – Iron Haiku

unspeakable acts-
unlearned lessons of the past
repeating again
–
cattle cars-
disappear within
the gates of hell

dusty fountain pens-
drawers full of love letters she
never meant to send
–
in the stacks-
quietly I try
to catch your eye

fingers intertwined
your slippered feet atop mine
before the fire
–
two dozen years-
still waking up
next to you

blue moonlight drips through
holes in the tattered shingles
onto the barn floor
–
peeling red paint-
the barn door
hangs askew

flat black soulless eyes
devoid of humanity
staring back at me
–
cold city street-
trying not to see
the homeless

a once proud lighthouse
wind battered, cracked and aging
still stands defiant
–
chalk cliffs-
scoured by
an angry sea

corrupted and vile
poisonous invasive roots
unwilling to yield
–
oblivious-
wandering into
a nest of vipers

a cold waiting room-
absolutely terrified
of what will come next
–
eyes closed-
the taste of salt
in my veins

nestled in the snow
a single long stemmed red rose
rests on your headstone
–
cold rain-
in the gutter
a bouquet of roses

barnacles gather
just below the waterline
where the piers once stood
–
rotting pilings-
waves, the echoes
of children’s laughter