Chance – Page 5 – Iron Haiku

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

through endless farmland-
I suddenly see myself
in a passing train
–
ice tinged puddles-
a stranger lingers
in the water

the sun bows her head-
day gives way to nightfall by
the ascendant moon
–
twilight-
fireflies call out
to emerging stars

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

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

softly falling rain-
I finally let you go
for your sake and mine
–
glass in his hair-
a husband waits
in anguished silence

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

black ink on paper-
oblivious passengers
riding the subway
–
a soft gong-
the model changes
position again

I’m holding my breath-
when I hit bottom I know
you’ll help me exhale
–
ripples of light-
the water’s surface
far above