Dawn – Page 16 – Iron Haiku

the fall of the year-
bare limbs of towering trees
reaching for the sun
–
sunrise-
amber leaves
on the water

sunset on the lake
threading my wet fingers through
tangerine waters
–
salmon skies-
october morning
the hills ablaze

stalks of winter wheat
growing through the rusty frame
of an old tractor
–
rising light-
a tattered scarecrow
greets the sun

autumn mornings spent
polishing the temple bells
as the sun rises
–
robins-
footprints in
the morning dew

low, the morning moon
full behind the breaking clouds
glowing in the sun
–
pumpkins on the vine-
the eastern sky
full of promise

rising from a dream
tasting a memory that’s
almost elusive
–
floating-
beholden to the wind
over a rising sun

pearly morning mist
the crew of eight rows as one
curling flat water
–
bulrushes-
a passing wake
laps the shore

speak not of winter-
late autumn flowers bloom through
lightly falling snow
–
caramel sunlight-
autumn’s first
turning leaf

jealous of our affections
in full view of everyone
the moon steals the sun
–
midday-
the spotlight
stolen

your small fragile hand
once grasped so tightly in mine
now a hardened fist
–
clear blue sky-
learning to fly
on the way down