Breath – Page 4 – Iron Haiku

softly falling rain-
I finally let you go
for your sake and mine
–
glass in his hair-
a husband waits
in anguished silence

laughter in the air-
mittens and scarves skating past
closed curio shops
–
bistro tables-
bohemian couples
on the grass

stripped down to the waist
sledgehammer and splitting maul
ringing in the sun
–
hazy starlight-
woodsmoke drifts
through the trees

an old shaking hand-
steady as it dips a brush
into the inkwell
–
autumn’s essence-
poems painted
on rice paper

smoke from the chimney-
a startled crack leaves embers
glowing on the hearth
–
whispers of smoke-
coals nestled in
among the ashes

a stinging backhand-
the first truly cold fall day
greets me with malice
–
grey exhaust-
white plumes
of breath

I’m holding my breath-
when I hit bottom I know
you’ll help me exhale
–
ripples of light-
the water’s surface
far above

I can feel you breathe
swaddled in my dead embrace
my arms paralyzed
–
a twin bed-
your pajamas
against my skin

deep in the pine boughs
two gray squirrels chase each other
around the tree trunks
–
gray squirrel-
scolding me
from on high

my bedside vigil-
each moment slipping away
taking you with them
–
machines hum-
outside your window
a starless night