Beneath – Page 59 – Iron Haiku

kindness costs nothing
but a small smile, a warm heart,
and a bit of love
–
cold pavement
wrapped in the gift
of a warm blanket

small talk in their booth
a dinner plate shatters and
she’s back in Iraq
–
turning winds
a yearling doe
prepares to bolt

after images
through the rain streaked windowpanes
impending thunder
–
mountain stream
a whisper of
quiet nonsense

ripped from a deep sleep
waking up in tattered clothes
not sure where I am
–
full moon rising
my true form
no longer hidden

guiding my journey
walking with the ghost of you
on my chosen path
–
dripping boulders
surging white water
streams diverging

thin walls, raised voices
across the street, it’s last call
in my third floor flat
–
crow on a gaslight
fog blanketing
cobblestones

watching you watch me
through heavily lidded eyes
as sleep becomes you
–
brindle underbrush
a chipmunk rests
beneath the leaves

sinking in the marsh
twisted and leafless corpses
wither in the sun
–
restive fish
dipping into
the surface

nubile and supple
and every move reminds me
of my need for you
–
warm afternoon sun
sodden and hungry
awaiting the spawn

running on instinct
pure adrenaline, and a
case of diet coke
–
pewter moonlight
silver fish turn
in pools of mist