Between – Page 19 – Iron Haiku

a fire in the hearth-
my well worn leather arm chair
and a mug of tea
–
frosted glass-
your cold feet
under my legs

cold new england streets-
an old oak tree holds onto
the last leaf of fall
–
first snow-
winter arrives
far too soon

worn jungle jacket-
three tours couldn’t prepare him
for life on the street
–
cold sweat-
desert sands
abrade his dreams

hands neatly folded
pinstripe suit and crisp linens
so properly posed
–
early sunday morning-
freshly turned earth
and rough sawn pine

a black bitter pill
taken with a glass of bile-
so hard to swallow
–
november morn-
the push is over
now I taste salt.

low distant thunder-
the smell of fall in the air
as the rain rolls in
–
sleeping cats-
outside the rain
turns to sleet

the telephone rings-
it seems you and I still have
unfinished business
–
woolen socks and
warm apple cider-
my phone in a drawer

open before me
the pages of my journal
blank and foreboding
–
onshore winds-
sand and shells
in the roiling surf

staring at the clock
trying to understand the
cruelty of time
–
aching for sleep-
minutes collect
in piles on the floor

october morning-
even the sun seems to feel
like staying in bed
–
flannel sheets-
somewhere in the house
an open window