Life – Page 72 – Iron Haiku

over greening trees
the ashen face of winter
watches the sunrise
–
peep frogs-
rainfall on
the river

corrupted and vile
poisonous invasive roots
unwilling to yield
–
oblivious-
wandering into
a nest of vipers

a fleeting moment
captured in a photograph
when we were in love
–
a glass of wine-
this shoebox full
of torn photos

angry bitter tears
burn as they roll down her face
and fall to the dirt
–
arid fields-
dust gathers
around his feet

downtown abandoned-
sickly yellow light leaks from
a single street lamp
–
moths-
the guttering
porch light

a cold waiting room-
absolutely terrified
of what will come next
–
eyes closed-
the taste of salt
in my veins

a cobblestone path-
the back garden gate flanked by
rose bushes in bloom
–
spring breeze-
the cloying scent
of honeysuckle

nestled in the snow
a single long stemmed red rose
rests on your headstone
–
cold rain-
in the gutter
a bouquet of roses

barnacles gather
just below the waterline
where the piers once stood
–
rotting pilings-
waves, the echoes
of children’s laughter

this taste of sunshine
after the dark dry winter
barely slakes my thirst
–
crokus blossoms-
eagerly defy the
lingering winter