Family – Page 27 – Iron Haiku

pulling on warm clothes
taken straight from the dryer
my guilty pleasure
–
on the subway
the smile of a dog
being rubbed right

freshly mown hay fields
drenched in the long warm rays of
the afternoon sun
–
an deep indigo sky
with you, the Perseids
and a warm blanket

loving you out loud
and I’m not even a bit
apologetic
–
trumpeter swans
building their nest atop
a beaver lodge

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

encouraging words
left in the chinks in my walls
for my future self
–
in a sky blue egg
cracks begin
to appear

no matter how far
the vanishing road takes me
I always return
–
nirvana awaits
yet I’m not
quite ready

black and blue and bruised
pinned to the ropes but fighting
for our very souls
–
a hard rain
drenches all
with no regard

when I’m in shadow
you pull me into the light
and show me the sun
–
old driftwood
a salamander
basking

unable to sleep
in what used to be our home
Feeling your echo
–
labyrinthine walls
reflecting back
your hollow voice

I shed my skin and
hang another skeleton
deep in my closet
–
alone
with my fetid
alter ego