Beneath – Page 6 – Iron Haiku

afternoon sunlight
casting long winter shadows
through the evergreens
–
woodland trails-
a scrim of ice
underfoot

looking for a score-
wandering the neighborhood
peering in windows
–
quarter past one-
a raccoon
in my garden

the promise of spring
pushing through the morning snow-
unopened blossoms
–
morning coffee-
powdered sugar
on my crossword

lost in the mirror-
the only light comes from the
crack in my teacup
–
face splitting grins-
each gaping mouth
another door

covers pulled up high-
living in constant fear of
the click of the latch
–
black and blue sky-
waiting for the
impending storm

invading my dreams-
the warm aroma drifts in
through my bedroom door
–
warm pajamas-
a steaming mug
on my nightstand

saturday morning-
I fall back to sleep, your kiss
drying on my lips
–
the bedroom door-
your pillow
still warm

bitter winter winds-
corruption festers and thrives
in the light of day
–
new moon-
awaiting the sun
to seek out shadows

curled up on cardboard-
nameless faceless commuters
pass without a glance
–
fingerless gloves-
dreaming of a home
not a doorway

another black cloud-
rain runs down my iron skin
leaving trails of rust
–
acid rain-
too much life
etched in my face