Flowers – Page 2 – Iron Haiku

the porch light goes dark-
the taste of cherry chapstick
lingers on my lips
–
lost in your garden-
crimson tulips
brush my cheek

crimson in the sun-
the first cardinal of spring
on my garden gate
–
april morning-
daffodils
in the rain

blue snow glories-
dry autumn leaves pushed aside
to make way for spring
–
muddy paw prints-
tracking spring
across my floors

a patchwork of blue-
clouds thread their way through branches
awaiting new growth
–
a taste of green-
daffodils pierce
the quilted snow

the promise of spring
pushing through the morning snow-
unopened blossoms
–
morning coffee-
powdered sugar
on my crossword

the dimly lit booth-
a small guttering candle
spills it’s meager light
–
two martinis-
your foot on
my bar stool

below the surface-
shadows of nameless horrors
rise up unbidden
–
deep in the night-
wrenched from sleep by
echoes of dreams

a spreading elm tree-
leathered fingers deftly weed
the cutting garden
–
flooded fields-
years of harvests
in her hands

crimson rose petals
clinging to a withered stem
slowly turning brown
–
tea rose petals –
the crystal bowl
overflowing

the whiteness of bone
long buried in the desert
revealed by the wind
–
summer evening-
dogwood petals
in the grass