Life – Page 25 – Iron Haiku

pale silver moonlight
captured in the broken glass
strewn across the street
–
autum eve-
crickets silenced
by shattering glass

peeling back the dark
exposing the ugly truth
to the light of day
–
low tide-
broken shells
on the sand

my bedside vigil-
each moment slipping away
taking you with them
–
machines hum-
outside your window
a starless night

vampires do exist-
in fact I’m sure one lives in
this overstuffed couch
–
the forest floor-
twigs and sticks snap
underfoot

in the western sky
the sun sets on iron clouds
promising thunder
–
leaves in the wind-
the low rumble
of distant thunder

a stone foundation
the remnants of a sawmill
lost to the forest
–
after the fire-
the chimney casts
a long shadow

rustling blankets-
your padding to the bathroom
teases me from sleep
–
the drive home-
fallen leaves
blanket the road

a rotting boardwalk
crosses an estuary
flowing to the sea
–
low tide-
razor clams
burrow in the mud

moonlight in her hair-
she walks along the shoreline
and into the night
–
a turtle’s splash –
the moon wavers
on the water

patiently waiting-
at the terminal rain sheets
down tinted windows
–
autumn evening-
once again
I’m alone