Life – Page 59 – Iron Haiku

tending his garden-
rich black soil etched deep into
his leathery hands
–
honeybees
a thistle hides
among the roses

an old swimming hole-
piles of clothes left abandoned
on the grassy shore
–
a frayed rope swing-
old memories
bittersweet

a beast of burden-
the cold weight of my shadow
pins me to the past
–
shadow boxes-
beetle’s wings
on display

reliving the past-
why am I drawn back to you
time and time again
–
poison ivy-
the inevitability
of regrowth

your name on my phone-
against my better judgment
I answer the call
–
labor day-
the first taste
of pumpkin spice

in the deep end
endlessly treading water
lest I slip under
–
sand hill cranes-
a bicycle rusts
amid the cattails

slow rhythmic rocking
as I’m drawn deep into you
my lover the sea
–
crying gulls-
lost in your
cold embrace

stone temple ruins-
echoes of ancient bronze bells
call the monks to prayer
–
summer sunlight-
wending through
the splintered roof

who will stand and speak
when there is such injustice
if not I then who?
–
angry seas-
ramshackle rafts
adrift and lifeless

turkey tail mushrooms-
beauty found within decay
and reclamation
–
in the dark-
nimble fingers pick
the mushroom harvest