Cold – Page 4 – Iron Haiku

a thin scrim of frost-
muddy waters churn beneath
this fragile veneer
–
storm clouds-
reopening
old wounds

an old farmers sink-
her mind miles away from the
blood in the carpet
–
back garden soil-
no amount of soap
makes her feel clean

drowning each of us
in the blood of our comrades
within sight of shore
–
tulips blossom-
death takes no heed
upon who’s grave

crimson in the sun-
the first cardinal of spring
on my garden gate
–
april morning-
daffodils
in the rain

april darkling skies-
picking up dry kindling for
the seasons last fire
–
well worn stories-
glowing embers
float skyward

late afternoon sun
shadows of rhododendrons
dance upon my wall
–
woolen socks-
warm feet on
the windowsill

a sheltered hollow-
in the footsteps of winter
the last melting snow
–
mid april-
morning grass
crusted with snow

winter’s dying breath-
the winged herald of spring
arriving too late
–
morning frost-
tender lilac buds
robed in ice

softly glowing coals-
the gentle curve of your hips
make the snow drifts blush
–
afternoon sun-
rising streams
of snow melt

late winter sunlight-
dawn paints my bedroom walls gold
an hour too early
–
almost spring-
awake before
my coffee pot