Life – Page 43 – Iron Haiku

an early March snow-
past time for pulling up roots
and moving along
–
stinging rain-
I return to find
an empty home

tiny wisps of light
at the edge of the forest
dancing in the dark
–
the nighttime sea-
distant sirens
in the dark

twisting in my sleep
I smell the blood and cordite
and lotus flowers
–
torrential rain-
countless lost
to take a hill

late autumn sun-
rising waters crack the ice
from an early freeze
–
a white canvass-
fresh gesso broken by
crocus blossoms

brutal onshore winds-
a nor’easter whips the sea
as waves pound the beach
–
my collar up-
a man chases
his hat

blowing on my tea-
before dawn the feral wind
roars in frustration
–
walking my dog-
the wind nips
at my heels

slowly settled in
every movement painful with
these old weary bones
–
well worn stones-
shore water’s
ebb and flow

withered autumn leaves-
not sure if he’ll live to see
another sunrise
–
desert stars-
hard and blue
in the moonlight

early spring flurries-
a young robin perches in
snow covered holly
–
peach sunrise-
frost glazes the
juniper berries

an old foundation
reclaimed by a forest of
thickly tangled vines
–
blowing snow-
winds sing in
the chimney