Family – Page 16 – Iron Haiku

your face in the glass
its hard to believe were just
an ocean apart
–
cold winds-
across the table
a sideways glance

the bedroom door wide
work clothes strewn across the floor
you and I asleep
–
endless meetings-
your fingers brush mine
by the sandwich tray

a grin escapes me-
one unseen piece of salmon
stuck to my cats nose
–
in the shadows-
my petite
stalker

from a different life
the passing of an old friend
rests on my shoulders
–
moonrise-
a silver wind
sways the curtains

the black charred remnants
of forty years of marriage
smolder between us
–
a fallen tree-
reduced
to ash

almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed
–
fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm

breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it
–
a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window

feeling impotent
my head full of words but I’m
unable to speak
–
snow fall-
staring out my
hospital window

on my mantlepiece
rest all the pieces of you
finally at peace
–
love letters-
ashes of
old flames

another phone call-
your tired face deeply etched
with dissapointment
–
drifting snow-
fox prints near
an empty hutch