Chance – Page 10 – Iron Haiku

cold mountain water-
a riverbed lined with stones
tumbled smooth by time
–
the forest green-
a whispering brook
shares its secrets

red stiletto heels
peeking out from underneath
the hem of her skirt
–
silk stockings-
black lines trace
the curve of her calves

trash cans at the curb
the stars at my back as I
walk back up the drive
–
upended bins-
a bandit masked
in the moonlight

unexpected rain-
flowing into the gutter
a child’s masterpiece
–
mountain and sky-
colors blended
on my canvas

shards of broken glass
strewn deeply across my path
yet still I walk on
–
moonlit surf-
hatchling turtles
dash for the sea

moving through aspic
living just outside of time
tired and alone
–
persistent rain-
a raven just
beyond the glass

it’s far too simple-
these old men send the sons of
others to their deaths
–
a spring breeze-
the fog of war
swept out to sea

a wine glass empty
save for the mark your lips made
when kissing the rim
–
thick woolen socks-
a spark jumps
between our lips

wind rustles the leaves
and coaxes a dryad’s song
of spring from the trees
–
whispers-
forest giants
shake off the cold

a soul deeply flawed
ichorous and fetid cast
from a broken mold
–
bathing rituals-
filing ewers by
the riverbanks