Cold – Page 14 – Iron Haiku

as day turns to night
the sun gives her dying light
to the mountain tops
–
mountain peaks-
aging temples
streaked with snow

the bathroom mirror-
a message written in steam
appears in your hand
–
starlit noon-
steam pours
from off the rocks

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

wolves of stone and snow
insubstantial in the light
of the forest moon
–
rising embers-
mournful howling
in the distance

the ghost of winter
runs her fingers through my hair
and kisses my neck
–
a cold wind-
blowing sand
and salt spray

on a twisted branch
outside my window a crow
in the black of night
–
india ink-
an ebony feather
is my quill

midwinter moonlight-
hushed stillness split by the cries
of mother and child
–
nesting jays-
the silence of
broken eggshells

an old church graveyard
dogwood petals salt the ground
o’er the waiting dead
–
grey rain-
tumbled stones
on hallowed ground

grey unseeing eyes-
where do you go when you’re gone
far away from here
–
fields of lavender-
safe spaces
inside her head