Light – Page 60 – Iron Haiku

staying up all night
just to fall asleep with you
and the breaking dawn
–
frogs in the trees-
rising woodsmoke
staining the sunset

take my outstretched hand
and let us walk together
across this threshold
–
distant mountain peaks-
over the dewey grass
the rising sun

it’s not who I am
this someone in the mirror
but who I became
–
a placid lake-
the moon’s watery
countenance

in the aftermath-
flowers left by the roadside
fading in the sun
–
stippled sunlight-
mushrooms growing
on fallen trees

ribbons of sea foam
settling across wet sands
as the tide comes in
–
light from the transom-
smoothing wrinkles
from her bedsheets

holding you tightly
wondering just where you go
when the darkness comes
–
stifling heat-
electric blue veins
dance across the storm

angry thunderclouds
lurking on the horizon
heavy with cold rain
–
summer afternoon-
the scent of rain
fills the air

ashes of the past
the land stoic and patient
awaiting rebirth
–
robins gather-
the old gardener
tends to his seedlings

you’re my cinnamon
my sugar, salt, my pepper
the spice in my life
–
open windows-
a cool breeze
tousles your hair

trapped by bitter cold
prison bars of leafless trees
holding me steadfast
–
spring snow-
steaming tea
fogs the window