Dawn – Page 3 – Iron Haiku

an ocean of sleep-
the receding tide leaves a
tangled mat of dreams
–
dandelion seeds-
bare whispers
of my mind

on the edge of sleep-
hours before my alarm rings
each noise a crisis
–
suddenly awake-
a murderer
or my cat?

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

full moon sunrise-
a thin spiderweb of clouds
spun across the sky
–
brightening skies-
the morning moon
greets the sun

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

darling snooze button-
I could not cherish more your
extra eight minutes
–
incessant buzzing-
as day breaks
so do I

slowly cooling sheets
echoes of the alarm clock-
bare traces of you
–
cold sunrise-
I wake up
alone

the promise of spring
pushing through the morning snow-
unopened blossoms
–
morning coffee-
powdered sugar
on my crossword

bleary eyed and tired-
the tile floor in the bathroom
cold beneath my feet
–
before sunrise-
my pillow whispers
sweet nothings

invading my dreams-
the warm aroma drifts in
through my bedroom door
–
warm pajamas-
a steaming mug
on my nightstand