Beneath – Page 17 – Iron Haiku

driftwood and clam shells
dried seaweed and rushes line
the high water mark
–
curling waves-
preening ducks
bathe in the surf

an old church graveyard
dogwood petals salt the ground
o’er the waiting dead
–
grey rain-
tumbled stones
on hallowed ground

freshly brewed coffee-
the morning sky hidden by
pebbled leather clouds
–
warm blankets-
coyotes chatter
before sunrise

rain thunders outside-
oil painted landscapes smearing
against my window
–
old masters-
failing vision
frozen in time

sedona night skies-
a desert scorpion crawls
across my bedroll
–
campfire-
embers rise to greet
the desert stars

weeping cherry trees
pink and white blossoms sodden
with the sudden rain
–
spring rains-
dogwood blooms
floating by

a whole life reduced
to two dust covered and scuffed
satchels by her feet
–
cold desert night-
the tent offers
poor respite

a warm rain ended-
softened sunlight drizzles down
to the forest floor
–
dawn breaks-
sunlight arrives
unannounced

encroaching darkness-
a blue moon wanders across
the path of the sun
–
approaching night-
a bat flies across
the moon

passing the graveyard-
a pale white lady rises
from tendrils of fog
–
solemn silence-
hands clasped
in a circle