Faith – Page 10 – Iron Haiku

all I have of you-
the crossword and a ring left
by your coffee cup
–
saplings-
rooted
in the shade

the lobsterman’s wife
watching the lighthouse at the
dying of the day
–
silent passage-
darkening water
laps the shore

clouds out ash and dust-
the soil of this arid land
affords no purchase
–
orange skies-
rivers of black glass
plunge into the sea

in the line of fire
standing while the others fall
I am bulletproof
–
rising smoke-
the doe startled
bounds away

that look in your eyes-
it’s an hour before dawn and
we need to leave now
–
exhausted-
more beautiful
than ever

ringing in the night –
hearing the sound of your voice
I fall to my knees
–
silent crickets-
two marines stand
in my doorway

whispering my name-
the last word upon your lips
before you leave me
–
peeling paint-
the swinging gate
at my back

unspeakable acts-
unlearned lessons of the past
repeating again
–
cattle cars-
disappear within
the gates of hell

fingers intertwined
your slippered feet atop mine
before the fire
–
two dozen years-
still waking up
next to you

the constant north wind-
a forest of leaning trees
hunched against the cold
–
april fools-
a robin’s tracks
in the snow