Beneath – Page 12 – Iron Haiku

mid september moon
shines behind indigo clouds
circled in silver
–
blushing-
the harvest moon
kissed by the sun

in an old wheelchair
a young girl waits deep inside
the shell of herself
–
first light-
a sliver of dawn
beneath the door

an empty basket-
warm sunlight on this week’s wash
snapping on the line
–
old bones-
family secrets
in the closet

a spreading elm tree-
leathered fingers deftly weed
the cutting garden
–
flooded fields-
years of harvests
in her hands

broken shower tiles
a bare bulb hangs from a chain
in my one room flat
–
after last call-
neon signs
light my way home

sitting at the bar-
beautiful and dangerous
death in a red dress
–
mangrove trees-
crocodiles
come and go

an overgrown lawn-
ravens nest in the eaves of
what was once a home
–
rotting lumber-
vines climb
though the floor

my blood in the sink-
I should be panicking but
I can’t feel the pain
–
tendrils of fog-
undisturbed by the hooves
of a pale horse

unexpected rain-
a brief but welcome respite
from the summer heat
–
clearing skies-
the gift of
a rainbow

shadows of the moon
climbing down from the treetops
to hide from the sun
–
lakeside dawn-
eider ducks
begin to stir