Beneath – Page 22 – Iron Haiku

autumn afternoon-
driving home in the dark past
drifts of wind blown leaves
–
light snow-
a swirl of
amber leaves

far down on the street
I look up towards the top floors
enveloped by clouds
–
incoming tide-
the golden gate bridge
draped in fog

palm leaves shade the sand-
reclining in a chaise lounge
drinking in the sun
–
salt air-
margaritas
whet my dreams

hard rain pelts the trees-
a hummingbird takes shelter
on my windowsill
–
desert noon-
seeking shelter
beneath the sand

gauzy hardwood smoke
rises into the night air
obscuring the moon
–
drifting embers-
folding chairs
around the fire

earbuds on silent-
subtly eavesdropping on
your conversation
–
sudden chills-
mantras I whisper
to myself

a fire in the hearth-
my well worn leather arm chair
and a mug of tea
–
frosted glass-
your cold feet
under my legs

hands neatly folded
pinstripe suit and crisp linens
so properly posed
–
early sunday morning-
freshly turned earth
and rough sawn pine

threatening storm clouds-
filling sandbags to ward off
the impending flood
–
a neglected barn-
keeping vigil over
rising waters

a black bitter pill
taken with a glass of bile-
so hard to swallow
–
november morn-
the push is over
now I taste salt.