Age – Page 53 – Iron Haiku

split in two at birth-
all these years spent searching for
that which makes me whole
–
wild horses-
where the river
meets the sea

your head on my chest
the sudden twitch of your leg
as you fall asleep
–
contemplation-
the sounds
of soft breathing

an aging oak tree-
all our sins laid bare beneath
the outstretched branches
–
a shoe in the grass-
the tire swing
motionless

the smile on your lips
reaches deep into your eyes
and into my heart
–
darkness-
reaching out
for your hand

the wind in your hair
miles unspooling behind us
escaping our past
–
needle and thread-
finding holes
in a spider’s web

picking at breakfast
sitting across the table
from the ghost of you
–
wilted flowers-
your whisper
in my ear

the day’s work is done
a blanket of fog settles
over bleaching bones
–
curling water-
the soft rattle
of empty shells

searching for a trace
of the light behind your eyes
but making my peace
–
afterimage-
the candle
doused

I’ve struggled so long
stumbling through the darkness
blinded by the truth
–
awakening-
the light of
a false dawn

the patter of rain-
rocking to the rhythm of
the impending storm
–
on the porch-
the evening air
thick with rain