Life – Page 22 – Iron Haiku

grey evening clouds
gauzy and diaphanous
thinly veil the moon
–
a warm orange glow-
the harvest moon
buried in the clouds

curling ocean waves-
the blackbird’s white feathered wings
touch an azure sky
–
glass dipped in frost-
a magpie taps
at my window

a stinging backhand-
the first truly cold fall day
greets me with malice
–
grey exhaust-
white plumes
of breath

sepia photos
memories of summerfields
slowly turn to dust
–
summer sky-
carousel music
on the pier

incessant beeping-
cobwebs in my coffee cup
my head thick with sleep
–
gentle sunlight-
irish breakfast and
the sunday puzzle

I’m holding my breath-
when I hit bottom I know
you’ll help me exhale
–
ripples of light-
the water’s surface
far above

wild racing thoughts-
my fix is the sleep I so
desperately crave
–
an open window-
coyotes call out
in the rising dawn

I can feel you breathe
swaddled in my dead embrace
my arms paralyzed
–
a twin bed-
your pajamas
against my skin

staring at the clock
waiting an eternity
for the time to change
–
my mind’s ear-
wide awake
in the dark

pumpkins on the porch-
fall winds whisper through the night
welcoming the frost
–
evening winds-
the waltzing of
fallen leaves