Dusk – Page 11 – Iron Haiku

standing on the dock
raising high my glass, toasting
the impending storm
–
rusty hinges-
a garden gate
bangs in the night

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

exploring the world
starting with the common ground
found beneath my feet
–
fading sunlight-
stone steps
along my path

thick solemn silence
dozens of flag draped coffins
lining the tarmac
–
echoes of summer-
shell casings
in a folded flag

robins flying south
I’m left stranded alone with
my desperation
–
evening dew-
california poppies
closed for the night

from across the beach-
the hollow silver ring of
a turtle drum band
–
a cold red stripe-
cabana lights
gently sway

night at terlingua
the glow of the fire beneath
a blanket of stars
–
desert sands-
rising embers
greet the stars

the early morning sun
walks amid the wet grass and
turns the dew to gold
–
twilight-
memories of dreams
most elusive

near enough to see
daylight fading to the point
where the rain begins
–
tending the garden-
raindrops warm
on my neck

alone on the dock-
staring into the remnants
of the setting sun
–
skipping stones-
bats take wing
before the moon