Light – Page 47 – Iron Haiku

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

watching from afar-
a tree falls in the forest
the silence unheard
–
old oak tree-
climbing vines
reach for the su

under crushing debt
the future turns to ashes
swept by our children
–
wild fire-
fed by embers
on the wind

any hope of sleep
spurned by the approaching dawn
and a snoring dog
–
sleeping dogs-
the violent death
of a cardboard box

eyes looking inward
staring into the darkness
barely held at bay
–
cleansing breaths-
the forest
whispers

the low morning sun
full of threats and promises
through the falling snow
–
skies alight-
the rumble
low and throaty

open bed pickup
memories caught by the wind
litter the highway
–
twisted fingers-
brittle pages of
her wedding album

coruscating snow
slithers across the highway
hastened by the wind
–
morning sun-
cherry blossoms
in the snow

after the thunder
the sun dances in the snow
through the parting clouds
–
winter morning-
a snowy egret
dips her bill

lives in transition
our time of death uncertain
until the next one
–
morning glory-
time enough
to live again