Between – Page 17 – Iron Haiku

the hours before dawn
I wake to your skin on mine
under the duvet
–
winter’s breath-
maple leaves
under fresh snow

the last day of spring-
apple blossoms ride on the
late afternoon breeze
–
barefoot-
crab apples
in the grass

this fight is over
and yet I find myself still
walking on eggshells
–
fallen trees-
we drive home
in silence

bitter on the tongue-
the hot bilious taste of
someone else’s fear
–
an owl’s cry-
the field mouse
frozen

midnight approaches-
carrying the promises
of the coming year
–
again-
the rising sun
greets the new year

the tv on low-
your breathing slows as you fall
asleep on my chest
–
the risen moon-
soft cries heard
as you fight sleep

the year end draws near-
looking back on regrets for
things I didn’t do
–
snowshoes-
stepping out
onto thin ice

a gilded mirror-
reflections of other lives
from across the room
–
frosted windows-
fire reflected
in your eyes

twisted hotel sheets
warm champagne and melted ice
left for housekeeping
–
an open window-
our naked skin
in the noonday sun

sitting on the stoop
waiting on a taxi cab-
a soft rain moves in
–
heavy clouds-
dogwood petals
in the grass