Life – Page 4 – Iron Haiku

the morning commute-
unexpected lavender blossoms
along the roadside
–
traffic-
a glimpse of
an osprey

flowering milkweed-
monarchs unfurl their new wings
to catch the sunlight
–
iridescence-
concentric rainbows
on the pavement

the lamplighter’s mac-
a thin scrim of london fog
coats the cobblestones
–
horseshoes-
echoes off
stone walls

by a country lane-
a hand lettered wooden sign
farm fresh eggs for sale
–
fresh eggs-
a card table
in the shade

alone at the bar-
a campari and soda
by a full ashtray
–
neon lights-
my reflection in
an empty glass

the screen door askew-
on the dead oak a tire swing
full of autumn leaves
–
a rusted bike-
through the spokes
foxtails grow

the sins of the past-
mixed with the cooling ashes
from the evening fire
–
dragonflies-
old misdeeds cast
upon the water

a worn dinette set-
memories of old comforts
in the falling rain
–
water crackers-
a chipped tea cup
rimmed in red

the garden abed-
ivory morning glories
closed against the night
–
morning dew-
a honeybee drinks
from a lambs ear

unexpected snow-
an onshore breeze silently
stirs the bulrushes
–
ebb tide-
snow falls gently
on the salt marsh