Beneath – Page 4 – Iron Haiku

shadows of small flags-
with a bouquet of flowers
she runs to your grave
–
mourning doves-
the young man
on the mantle

my rhododendrons-
robins erupt into song
just before the dawn
–
the sun rises-
heedless of the
whiskey and beer

grime covered windows-
watching the rain absently
stirring black coffee
–
street lights-
shadows of rain
on my paper napkin

covered in lichens-
a tall and stately oak tree
sheds its dead branches
–
thin mountain air-
all my baggage
suddenly empty

the low eastern sun
resplendent in green and gold
dances with the moon
–
wind chimes-
Sol and Luna
pas de deux

a field of shadows-
the bargains made with myself
so swiftly broken
–
a full flower moon-
silver shadowed
daffodils

your hand grasps my thumb-
our breathing becomes one as
sleep takes you away
–
post bottle-
a twitch wakes you
for just a moment

the blankets askew-
as you start to fall asleep
we share the same breath
–
dream talking-
I lie beside you
and listen

april darkling skies-
picking up dry kindling for
the seasons last fire
–
well worn stories-
glowing embers
float skyward

steam on the asphalt-
an early afternoon rain
slowly departing
–
evening rain-
a barn owl waits
in a hollow tree