Life – Page 111 – Iron Haiku

I’ve changed all my locks
somehow your keys still fit in
and still turn me on
–
cold winds blow
your call comes through
in the dead of night

waiting for the train
a low mournful whistle drones
off in the distance
–
an iron sky
heavy snow falls
on distant peaks

stolen innocence-
inured to constant violence
and lost empathy
–
distant wildfires
a false sunset in
the eastern sky

air laced with woodsmoke
thick with a rich silence as
the rain turns to snow
–
twilight
listening to
the snow fall

the low midday sun
shadows of geese noiselessly
passing overhead
–
dancing water
a clingy black shift
of morning ice

frantically rushing
worried that I’ll be late for
my disappointment
–
winter’s breath
making the trek
to an empty woodbin

the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light
–
gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun
–
just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

shutters hang askew
a cracked and peeling screen door
banging in the wind
–
fading laughter
shards of glass litter
the sun baked earth

lying in the grass
in quiet conversation
with the fallen leaves
–
mottled sunlight
spruce needles
murmur underfoot