Beneath – Page 16 – Iron Haiku

trash cans at the curb
the stars at my back as I
walk back up the drive
–
upended bins-
a bandit masked
in the moonlight

gold and silver koi
resting by the water’s edge
scatter the moonlight
–
water lilies-
a dragonfly’s
reflection

moving through aspic
living just outside of time
tired and alone
–
persistent rain-
a raven just
beyond the glass

it’s far too simple-
these old men send the sons of
others to their deaths
–
a spring breeze-
the fog of war
swept out to sea

a sudden cloudburst-
the rain soaking my shoes as
I run for cover
–
hazy sunshine-
sidewalks steaming
from the passing rain

a soul deeply flawed
ichorous and fetid cast
from a broken mold
–
bathing rituals-
filing ewers by
the riverbanks

my outstretched fingers-
a solitary oak leaf
floating on the breeze
–
spring afternoon-
dozens of oak seeds
spin in the wind

off the mountain road
a wake of buzzards gather
‘round a fallen deer
–
moonrise-
the fawn waits
in the tall grass

puppets to a one-
dancing to unheard music
hung from tangled threads
–
skeletal fingers-
pulling taut
the threads of fate

on a twisted branch
outside my window a crow
in the black of night
–
india ink-
an ebony feather
is my quill