Life – Page 10 – Iron Haiku

opening the blinds-
the white light of a full moon
caresses your skin
–
pounding surf-
the taste of salt
on your lips

reaching from behind
the hands at his neck slowly
loosening his tie
–
watching ants-
his entire life
buttoned down

steam on the asphalt-
an early afternoon rain
slowly departing
–
evening rain-
a barn owl waits
in a hollow tree

a moss covered oak-
the sound of a woodpecker
hollow in the trees
–
echoes of prayer bells-
an ancient shrine
forgotten

white foam at her lips-
on ebon hooves she gallops
through the endless night
–
riderless-
the bearer of
secret horrors

raspberry brambles-
raucous bluejays fly into
pomegranate skies
–
march afternoon-
apple pies cool
in the window

footprints in the sand-
the incoming tide covers
any trace of me
–
amid the leaves-
an adder’s
shed skin

sleep winds through the trees-
a woodland lullaby of
peepers and croakers
–
a veil of clouds-
crickets and frogs
escort the moon

winter’s dying breath-
the winged herald of spring
arriving too late
–
morning frost-
tender lilac buds
robed in ice

social distancing-
tulip blossoms pay no heed
to the fall of man
–
robin’s song-
mankind’s
lament