Family – Page 5 – Iron Haiku

grey evening clouds
gauzy and diaphanous
thinly veil the moon
–
a warm orange glow-
the harvest moon
buried in the clouds

our long entrance hall-
the empty peg on the wall
where your coat once hung
–
distant smoke-
years of farmland
turned to ash

months of sundays gone-
I still just can’t get used to
sleeping without you
–
autumn winds-
the restless swirl
of fallen leaves

afternoon sunlight-
an old man and his grandson
asleep on the floor
–
sunday mornings-
step stool by the sink
shaving together

my bedside vigil-
each moment slipping away
taking you with them
–
machines hum-
outside your window
a starless night

patiently waiting-
at the terminal rain sheets
down tinted windows
–
autumn evening-
once again
I’m alone

living in this house-
a shrine to your past regrets
and those yet to come
–
low tide-
finding sea glass
and jellyfish

my back turned to you-
pretending to be asleep as
you climb into bed
–
angry clouds-
blue skies
forgotten

an empty basket-
warm sunlight on this week’s wash
snapping on the line
–
old bones-
family secrets
in the closet

an overgrown lawn-
ravens nest in the eaves of
what was once a home
–
rotting lumber-
vines climb
though the floor