Broken – Page 9 – Iron Haiku

Truth

deep mahogany-
secrets that only I know
collect in my glass
–
neon lights-
harsh reflections
in the gutter

our long entrance hall-
the empty peg on the wall
where your coat once hung
–
distant smoke-
years of farmland
turned to ash

months of sundays gone-
I still just can’t get used to
sleeping without you
–
autumn winds-
the restless swirl
of fallen leaves

pale silver moonlight
captured in the broken glass
strewn across the street
–
autum eve-
crickets silenced
by shattering glass

peeling back the dark
exposing the ugly truth
to the light of day
–
low tide-
broken shells
on the sand

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

hanging on a strap-
the city moves beneath me
though I’m standing still
–
railway sidings-
rusting beasts
long since dead

vampires do exist-
in fact I’m sure one lives in
this overstuffed couch
–
the forest floor-
twigs and sticks snap
underfoot

a stone foundation
the remnants of a sawmill
lost to the forest
–
after the fire-
the chimney casts
a long shadow

rustling blankets-
your padding to the bathroom
teases me from sleep
–
the drive home-
fallen leaves
blanket the road