Hunger – Page 9 – Iron Haiku

ashen metal sky-
slowly rolling cattle cars
descend into hell
–
chain link fence-
the walking dead
in black and white

a whole life reduced
to two dust covered and scuffed
satchels by her feet
–
cold desert night-
the tent offers
poor respite

a warm rain ended-
softened sunlight drizzles down
to the forest floor
–
dawn breaks-
sunlight arrives
unannounced

dark basement staircase-
the heady scent of baked bread
wafts down from above
–
golden light-
brown buttered toast
and black coffee

passing the graveyard-
a pale white lady rises
from tendrils of fog
–
solemn silence-
hands clasped
in a circle

great sheets of lake ice
cracked and heaving in the sun
as they come onshore
–
a cold night-
the ice in your drink
begins to melt

rhapsody in blue-
the crush of humanity
just outside my ears
–
the subway shuttle-
a ragged busker
bows his violin

an empty barstool-
I decide to take a risk
on conversation
–
empty glasses-
my napkin
torn to shreds

crimson fingernails
lightly drawn along my skin
leaving ghostly trails
–
rain streaked windows-
we agree
on safe words

I placed you upon
a pedestal and now you’re
far beyond my reach
–
the house dark-
a distant moon
through the skylight