Anger – Page 8 – Iron Haiku

the creak of hinges-
curtains drawn against the light
rising in the east
–
fading daylight-
the rustle of
leathery wings

well before sunrise
the clamor of rubbish bins
echoes in my sleep
–
venus rising-
masked bandits
steal my trash

living day to day
wondering the earth searching
for my salvation
–
a glint in the sun-
The key hiding
in plain sight

this fight is over
and yet I find myself still
walking on eggshells
–
fallen trees-
we drive home
in silence

freshly cut flowers
in what used to be your urn
on my mantle piece
–
empty boxes-
the dog sleeps
on your side

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

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

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

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

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