Life – Page 40 – Iron Haiku

through the forest glen
long ribbons of water flow
over time worn stones
–
white water-
children’s laughter
in the froth

a mackerel sky-
skeins of canadian geese
flying overhead
–
routine commute-
cardinals cross
my path

a towering oak-
our initials in a heart
carved into the trunk
–
sunset park-
the bench where
we first met

the bathroom door locked –
water covers the threshold
soaking the carpet
–
echos in the hallway-
your phone goes
straight to voice mail

a warm rain ended-
softened sunlight drizzles down
to the forest floor
–
dawn breaks-
sunlight arrives
unannounced

one thing is certain-
with the taxes completed
l just wait for death
–
lights dim-
a life’s debt
repaid

dark basement staircase-
the heady scent of baked bread
wafts down from above
–
golden light-
brown buttered toast
and black coffee

passing the graveyard-
a pale white lady rises
from tendrils of fog
–
solemn silence-
hands clasped
in a circle

a deer in the woods-
the chorus of spring peepers
suddenly silent
–
midnight-
startled awake by
preternatural stillness

writing in the dark-
I dip my pen into the
inkwell of the night
–
a forest path-
fallen trees
turn to dust