Cold – Page 37 – Iron Haiku

warm spring afternoon
rolling down a grassy hill
into a mass grave
–
wispy clouds-
grass stains and
smiling faces

ahead of the dawn
plodding bleary eyed into
an ashen twilight
–
flannel sheets-
coyotes barking
before the sunrise

my cupped hands hiding
the glow of a cigarette
behind the garage
–
cold rain-
ignoring my phone
before last call

waiting on my touch
your warm skin rising up in
anticipation
–
rose petals-
the taste of
your breath

the taste of winter
falling from the sky for miles
to melt on my tongue
–
platform two-
frost gathers
on my lashes

asleep on the beach-
so far away from winter
and your icy touch
–
caribbean surf-
tracing lazy circles
on the small your back

delicate saplings-
bending to the fickle will
of the winter wind
–
bare branches-
a light dusting
of fresh snow

southward flying geese
their long journey just begun
as mine is ending
–
warm boots-
my old dog’s
snowy muzzle

by her bedroom door
listening to my daughter
cry herself to sleep
–
leafless boughs-
no resistance to
the howling winds

heads bowed in respect
under an overcast sky
the flag at half mast
–
rising winds-
halyards ring
the flagpole