Life – Page 39 – Iron Haiku

sedona night skies-
a desert scorpion crawls
across my bedroll
–
campfire-
embers rise to greet
the desert stars

weeping cherry trees
pink and white blossoms sodden
with the sudden rain
–
spring rains-
dogwood blooms
floating by

overnight snowfall
blankets the desert landscape
of sand and sagebrush
–
condors overhead-
remnants of snow
in cactus shadows

just before sunrise-
my tea steeps as a vixen
calls out to her kits
–
plumes of breath-
a young doe
hides her fawn

a whole life reduced
to two dust covered and scuffed
satchels by her feet
–
cold desert night-
the tent offers
poor respite

cobblestone sidewalks-
birds nest in the thatch roofs of
tudor cottages
–
spring afternoon-
warm hours spent
deadheading roses

early morning dew-
clusters of tulips push through
last year’s matted leaves
–
an iron gate-
roses twined around
our postbox

late afternoon breeze-
a cardinal feeds his mate
seeds from my garden
–
morning sunlight-
dogwood brides
dressed in white

the first spring sunrise-
a thin mist of winter clings
to the melting snow
–
daybreak-
a silver moon
over hoarfrost grass

rid of you at last
cut from where you’d gotten lodged
just under my skin
–
last year’s maple leaves-
splinters from a
prior life