Life – Page 57 – Iron Haiku

waiting for the bus
she seeks shelter from the rain
and years of abuse
–
a sudden squall-
the sky bruised
and blackened

on the village green
the shadows of injustice
hang from an oak tree
–
greasy smoke-
torches light
a darkened path

simple linen shrouds-
worn at a time when we are
all truly equal
–
graveside-
the hollow echo
of falling earth

alone with my sins-
I pray for atonement and
for the strength to change
–
overcast-
rain runs down
stained glass

blonde and auburn leaves
kissed by the first touch of fall
decorate my lawn
–
home from work-
she tosses her hair
on the bed

at work dreaming of
a caribbean romance
before summer ends
–
a dockside bar
rum runners and
buffet tunes

a horseshoe crab shell
empty in the shadow of
an upturned rowboat
–
moonlit surf-
the lifeguard tower
stands empty

feeling out of place
out of time and out of mind
without you with me
–
unfamiliar stars-
in hotel sheets
missing you

the sea in the wind
salt, sand, and tropical sun
tangled in her hair
–
amid the waves-
she watches ships
ply her waters

you think things are bad
why not try rolling your eyes
at me one more time
–
crows take flight-
under the elm
a shallow grave