Breath – Page 10 – Iron Haiku

horizontal rain-
fractured palms and broken dreams
tumble down the street
–
dark greasy smoke-
The sky lit
by falling embers

an empty barstool-
I decide to take a risk
on conversation
–
empty glasses-
my napkin
torn to shreds

crimson fingernails
lightly drawn along my skin
leaving ghostly trails
–
rain streaked windows-
we agree
on safe words

blowing on my tea-
before dawn the feral wind
roars in frustration
–
walking my dog-
the wind nips
at my heels

golden fields of wheat-
long blades of giant windmills
lazily turning
–
arid sun-
sagebrush
swirls in wind

slowly settled in
every movement painful with
these old weary bones
–
well worn stones-
shore water’s
ebb and flow

early spring flurries-
a young robin perches in
snow covered holly
–
peach sunrise-
frost glazes the
juniper berries

an old foundation
reclaimed by a forest of
thickly tangled vines
–
blowing snow-
winds sing in
the chimney

the coals put to bed-
a sugar coated landscape
greets me at sunrise
–
saturday morning-
full of promise
beyond my bed

my outstretched fingers-
reaching out for your touch but
you’re already gone
–
icy fog-
your skin cold
to the touch