Beneath – Page 48 – Iron Haiku

split in two at birth-
all these years spent searching for
that which makes me whole
–
wild horses-
where the river
meets the sea

your head on my chest
the sudden twitch of your leg
as you fall asleep
–
contemplation-
the sounds
of soft breathing

an aging oak tree-
all our sins laid bare beneath
the outstretched branches
–
a shoe in the grass-
the tire swing
motionless

the sky badly bruised
sitting beneath the mottled
colors of sundown
–
roiling-
iron clouds
hanging low

with the setting sun
purple ink spreads across the
paper of the night
–
coming darkness-
the ravens gather
on my roof

the day’s work is done
a blanket of fog settles
over bleaching bones
–
curling water-
the soft rattle
of empty shells

ebony leaves strewn
across an indigo sky
fading out to black
–
moonless-
the warm glow
of a distant fire

searching for a trace
of the light behind your eyes
but making my peace
–
afterimage-
the candle
doused

weaver of moonlight
roses follow her footsteps
wherever she roams
–
asleep-
walking with
an absent moon

hand in hand with you
standing by the river’s edge
watching the drawbridge
–
tinted sunlight-
walking across
a fallen tree