Beneath – Page 55 – Iron Haiku

guttering gas lamps
weakly lighting the platform
where she waits, in vain
–
the scent of jasmine-
a silent stream
turns to ice

sprinting to your door
the rain soaked newspaper held
just over my head
–
staccato whispers-
light rain falling
through the trees

entwined in the sheets
last night you were in my bed
complicating things
–
a cold rain-
leaving alone
at closing time

a warm southern breeze
long willow boughs sway gently
caressing the earth
–
spring rains-
the willow’s soft tears
darken the ground

as winter arrives
fog seeps into the valley
under a veiled moon
–
harvest moon-
the arthritic fingers
of barren trees

caught in the moment
losing time watching you dance
barefoot in the rain
–
cloudburst-
green leaves on the
steaming pavement

down by the lakeside
a skein of migrating geese
glide in for a rest
–
hot pavement-
the roar of flight
fills my ears

picking myself up
from all the times I’ve fallen
back in love with you
–
floating ice-
piling up
downstream

awake at first light
realizing far too late
I’m not who I thought
–
venus rising-
difficult memories
consigned to the fire

tumbling down hill
chatting and laughing aloud
running to the sea
–
freshly frozen-
on the lake shore
crackled glass