Cold – Page 7 – Iron Haiku

another black cloud-
rain runs down my iron skin
leaving trails of rust
–
acid rain-
too much life
etched in my face

winter at the shore-
sun bleached clam and oyster shells
blend into the snow
–
approaching storm-
sea foam white
in the wind

late afternoon sun-
illuminated dust motes
meander through time
–
first snow-
autumn leaves
across the threshold

leaves blow through the barn-
the sweet smell of feed dust hangs
heavy in the air
–
ringing steel-
horseshoes red in
the farrier’s forge

angry winter night-
grey shutters on the northern wall
banging in the wind
–
on the south porch-
sharing the sunrise as
the wind chimes slowly

below the surface-
shadows of nameless horrors
rise up unbidden
–
deep in the night-
wrenched from sleep by
echoes of dreams

the bright hunter’s moon-
a ‘possum in my garden
gleaning the harvest
–
soft autumn eve-
the crackle of leaves
under marauding paws

the snick of scissors-
years of her identity
in piles on the floor
–
afternoon rain-
the buzz of gossip
and razors

she gives him her name-
for a just moment they share
their humanity
–
snow covered sidewalk-
she wraps her dog
in the blanket

black feathers gleaming
the final drop of rain falls
from a raven’s beak
–
a tempest-
swirls of cream
in my coffee