Death – Page 41 – Iron Haiku

the light of hope shines
across the vastness of space
from a long dead star
–
a fallen oak
sprouting
shiitakes

thin tendrils of smoke
weave the final tapestry
of a dying fire
–
rose petals
still warm from
the evening sun

impatient lemmings
craggy rocks block their passage
to the sea below
–
spring rains
a beaver dam
overflowing

light plays on the walls
alternating blue and red
the sirens, silent
–
puddles in the street
turning to steam
in the sun

a resting mayfly
the dimples in the water
signaling a carp
–
spreading ripples
a gossamer wing
on the surface

blazing streaks of fire
tearing through the winter sky
dying as cinders
–
the predawn hours
an intrepid visitor
on my doorstep

joyful innocence
unencumbered by malice
that’s yet to be learned
–
the parched forest glen
desperately awaits
the lightning

brief is our passage
across the river of time
into the unknown
–
oak saplings
from acorns
never unearthed

dealing with the grief
of saying goodbye to you
for the final time
–
rest
at last
in peace

glowing embers blow
through gnarled ashen limbs and
pallid withered leaves
–
a cigarette butt
untold miles of
scorched forest