Broken – Page 7 – Iron Haiku

sitting on the stoop-
strangers walking past me with
judgment in their eyes
–
icy concrete steps-
wrought iron railings
rusted through

past a dark alley
a chorus of feral cats
and toppled trash cans
–
over the car horns
and the shouting-
more sirens

another el train
rumbles by as I sit in
my open window
–
an ailing fan-
ninety degrees
at two am

blinded by the pain-
your small hand comes to guide me
out of the darkness
–
crystal sky-
the sudden flight
mourning doves

high above the ground-
defying gravity while
wrapped in flowing silk
–
empty fairgrounds-
torn and faded canvas
flaps in the wind

wrapped in white linen-
a flight of doves foreshadow
this final journey
–
evening shadows-
the winding road
into darkness

sleep clouding my eyes
I drive into the sunrise-
a cold autumn moon
–
cold dark morn-
torn from the womb
of my comforter

sputtering neon-
piles of rags weakly lit by
the staccato glow
–
november night-
threadbare blankets
in the doorway

well past closing time-
we rehash old war stories
over onion rings
–
a dirty booth-
my chipped coffee cup
bottomless

hourglass summer-
memories of time we spent
slip through my fingers
–
driftwood-
a gull’s shadow
passes by