Chance – Page 12 – Iron Haiku

late afternoon breeze-
a cardinal feeds his mate
seeds from my garden
–
morning sunlight-
dogwood brides
dressed in white

encroaching darkness-
a blue moon wanders across
the path of the sun
–
approaching night-
a bat flies across
the moon

passing the graveyard-
a pale white lady rises
from tendrils of fog
–
solemn silence-
hands clasped
in a circle

a deer in the woods-
the chorus of spring peepers
suddenly silent
–
midnight-
startled awake by
preternatural stillness

wind at the windows-
as I move to tend the fire
the cat takes my seat
–
late winter morn-
my calico sleeps
in a patch of sun

ripples on ripples-
the pond’s once glassy surface
welcomes back the rain
–
a forest lea-
the doe and her fawn
return to the wood

tiger lilies bloom-
last year’s fallen leaves begin
dancing with the wind
–
crocus blooms –
a young robin
in my birdbath

rhapsody in blue-
the crush of humanity
just outside my ears
–
the subway shuttle-
a ragged busker
bows his violin

clutching thoughts and prayers
while we let those who suffer
slip through our fingers
–
predawn chill-
sleeping children
suddenly fatherless

the first day we met
your perfect little fingers
wrapped around my thumb
–
laundromat-
your clothes tumble
next to mine