Between – Page 13 – Iron Haiku

droning bumblebees
flit from flower to blossom
gathering nectar
–
a young black bear-
prospecting
for gold

trash cans at the curb
the stars at my back as I
walk back up the drive
–
upended bins-
a bandit masked
in the moonlight

a yellow sundress-
the scent of lilac blossoms
carried on the breeze
–
dreams of dawn-
waking memories
of jasmine

moving through aspic
living just outside of time
tired and alone
–
persistent rain-
a raven just
beyond the glass

a wine glass empty
save for the mark your lips made
when kissing the rim
–
thick woolen socks-
a spark jumps
between our lips

northern white cedars-
the cliff face of ragged stone
falling to the sea
–
out of the fog-
a grand tower
of sun bleached stone

on a twisted branch
outside my window a crow
in the black of night
–
india ink-
an ebony feather
is my quill

around my ankle
an invisible red thread
that binds me to you
–
a cardinal-
in the holly his mate
awaits his return

an old church graveyard
dogwood petals salt the ground
o’er the waiting dead
–
grey rain-
tumbled stones
on hallowed ground

grey unseeing eyes-
where do you go when you’re gone
far away from here
–
fields of lavender-
safe spaces
inside her head