Irony – Page 5 – Iron Haiku

Plant

japanese maples-
bright crimson leaves caught aflame
in the morning sun
–
sudden rain-
sheltering under
an elephant’s ear

black leather collar
tight around my neck lying
prostrate at your feet
–
cold stone-
village pews
stand empty

I hit a doorknob
or tripped and fell down the stairs-
I’m just so clumsy
–
an autumn eve-
the sky lit by
a house on fire

sunday afternoon
on the line the week’s washing
left out in the rain
–
empty bottles-
even the baby
has stopped crying

before the mirror
staring into the unknown-
who the hell am I
–
sunday afternoon-
looking for a family
I swab my cheek

you think things are bad
why not try rolling your eyes
at me one more time
–
crows take flight-
under the elm
a shallow grave

down by the river
releasing slights collected
after all these years
–
on my back-
the weight of countless
grains of sand

still she counts the ships-
her thick wool sweater stained red
with the setting sun
–
date night-
she sits at a table
set for one

reliving the past-
why am I drawn back to you
time and time again
–
poison ivy-
the inevitability
of regrowth

all the leaves scattered
standing despite itself but
rotten at the core
–
a forest altar-
oaken pews
standing empty