Broken – Page 21 – Iron Haiku

the front door ajar-
shards of glass litter the hall
of my ruined home
–
crows take wing –
a fir crashes
to the forest floor

a raging torrent-
black water choked with debris
and bad memories
–
murky waters-
stirring up
the past

before the mirror
staring into the unknown-
who the hell am I
–
sunday afternoon-
looking for a family
I swab my cheek

warm morning sunlight
shines upon on a stranger’s face
in my hotel bed
–
full moon-
muddy tracks
lead to my bed

waiting for the bus
she seeks shelter from the rain
and years of abuse
–
a sudden squall-
the sky bruised
and blackened

on the village green
the shadows of injustice
hang from an oak tree
–
greasy smoke-
torches light
a darkened path

simple linen shrouds-
worn at a time when we are
all truly equal
–
graveside-
the hollow echo
of falling earth

alone with my sins-
I pray for atonement and
for the strength to change
–
overcast-
rain runs down
stained glass

blonde and auburn leaves
kissed by the first touch of fall
decorate my lawn
–
home from work-
she tosses her hair
on the bed

at work dreaming of
a caribbean romance
before summer ends
–
a dockside bar
rum runners and
buffet tunes