Fear – Page 6 – Iron Haiku

sputtering neon-
piles of rags weakly lit by
the staccato glow
–
november night-
threadbare blankets
in the doorway

softly falling rain-
I finally let you go
for your sake and mine
–
glass in his hair-
a husband waits
in anguished silence

black ink on paper-
oblivious passengers
riding the subway
–
a soft gong-
the model changes
position again

awaiting the fall-
swayed by the prevailing winds
rotten at the core
–
scrub grass-
remnants of glass
in peeling sashes

a postulant soul
emerges from the shadows
selling fools false light
–
silver tongues-
gilded lies and
tainted truths

staccato drumming-
the evening rain disappears
into the night’s fog
–
scorched earth-
rain on the tin roof
far too late

river clay and dust
takes on a life of its own
much to my chagrin
–
pounding rain-
the stream a torrent
of mud and debris

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

pale silver moonlight
captured in the broken glass
strewn across the street
–
autum eve-
crickets silenced
by shattering glass

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