Beneath – Page 47 – Iron Haiku

in the overgrowth
well worn by the hands of time
forgotten tombstones
–
by the window
waiting, staring
at the falling snow

sailing the narrows
navigating the graveyards
of nameless seamen
–
rising tide-
waves break
on hidden shoals

streaks of wispy clouds
paint dry brushed on the canvas
of the evening sky
–
shadows of trees-
crickets by
my open window

dwelling in the past-
bricked up in this house of pain
my arm, my jailer
–
a wasp’s sting-
repeated lies
no longer told

iron seas and skies
sailing into the north wind
my face to the rain
–
solitude-
my paddle dips
into glassy water

eaten alive, wedged
in the belly of the beast
resigned to his fate
–
roaring water-
the spawning grounds
await upstream

mired in my fears
a prisoner of what was
slave to what might be
–
hawk’s shadow
into a deadfall
a rabbit tail

empty eyes soulless-
sliding down the razors edge
between life and death
–
soft rattles-
promises of release
in the tall grass

awake and alone
the contours of your body
still fresh in my sheets
–
a startled thrush-
impressions left
in the tall grass

faces of the dead
constantly with me waiting
for my eyes to close
–
lost souls-
the silence
of the fen