Light – Page 43 – Iron Haiku

two dark silhouettes
framed in the open window
sitting side by side
–
tails twitching-
warm dreams
in the sunlight

verdant fields of grass
freshly cut into windrows
drying in the sun
–
migrant bees-
tend the
grape arbor

awake in my bed-
dawn eases through my window
gilding all I see
–
a web of stars-
blackbird songs
invades my dreams

the lobsterman’s wife
watching the lighthouse at the
dying of the day
–
silent passage-
darkening water
laps the shore

pockets of moonlight
across the rippled surface
of a mountain lake
–
midnight water-
still dragonflies
dimple the surface

home with my regrets
I should have asked for a kiss
when I had the chance
–
your upturned lips-
moths flutter
in the porch light

alone on the road
speeding towards oblivion
far away from you
–
velvet panic-
our safe word
forgotten

his paper thin skin
stretched across arthritic hands
so easily bruised
–
a spreading elm-
our initials
overgrown

clouds out ash and dust-
the soil of this arid land
affords no purchase
–
orange skies-
rivers of black glass
plunge into the sea

april’s robin song-
the morning moon rolls over
and kisses the sun
–
cat at my feet-
your back warm
against my chest