Light – Page 36 – Iron Haiku

the living desert-
waves carried across the sand
by wind on the dunes
–
tumbleweeds-
a mindless expanse
of lifeless sand

blackbird’s lilting song-
sunlight caresses your face
just before you wake
–
in the clouds-
the soft glow of
an autumn dawn

waiting for the train
I stand on the platform near
the other pigeons
–
misty morning-
migrating geese
return to the sky

brown rivers swollen-
remnants of our prior lives
piled up in the streets
–
autumn sun-
in my living room
the black waterline

a placid trout stream-
three old fishermen stand casting
amid the lilies
–
light rain-
three koi hide
under the bridge

I hit a doorknob
or tripped and fell down the stairs-
I’m just so clumsy
–
an autumn eve-
the sky lit by
a house on fire

your silver hammer
softly tapping cracks into
my porcelain heart
–
soft breathing-
your hair gold
in the sunlight

echoes in the walls-
this unfurnished apartment
hiding its secrets
–
harvest moon-
cool wind
in the corn field

late into the night-
pouring over lesson plans
and student papers
–
a clenched fist-
time still runs
through my fingers

the afternoon sky-
dark shadows of contrails paint
the white clouds bellow
–
early morning-
my head and office
above the clouds