Faith – Page 6 – Iron Haiku

the first day we met
your perfect little fingers
wrapped around my thumb
–
laundromat-
your clothes tumble
next to mine

softly melting snow-
the trumpets of returning
canadian geese
–
the ides of march-
a robin graces
my dogwood tree

I placed you upon
a pedestal and now you’re
far beyond my reach
–
the house dark-
a distant moon
through the skylight

late autumn sun-
rising waters crack the ice
from an early freeze
–
a white canvass-
fresh gesso broken by
crocus blossoms

slowly settled in
every movement painful with
these old weary bones
–
well worn stones-
shore water’s
ebb and flow

snow laden branches
bent over in silent prayer
to the cold north wind
–
unanswered prayers-
the stone floor cold
against his cheek

at the old stone well
I peer into the darkness
looking back at me
–
moss covered stone-
I dip my bowl into
the well of souls

reaching for your hand
I would touch you if only
I could turn back time
–
under the oak tree-
lost in our
history

at the podium
a wool blanket wraps itself
around my tongue
–
summer sun-
snowy cotton
waiting for harvest

the year end draws near-
looking back on regrets for
things I didn’t do
–
snowshoes-
stepping out
onto thin ice