Light – Page 63 – Iron Haiku

living night to night
afraid of my own shadow
lest I feel the sun
–
crying gulls-
a distant sandbar
bakes in the sun

I still feel you here
disturbing the emptiness
well after you’re gone
–
thunderclouds-
hard rain off
the tin roof

as the sun descends
she draws the curtain of night
to unveil the moon
–
angry lovers-
the evening sun
sets the sky aflame

through all this darkness
the seed of light we planted
finally takes root
–
snow crocus blooms-
the heady smell of
freshly turned earth

looking at myself
amid the twisted wreckage
of my ruined car
–
mourning doves-
lost in the white
of the winter sky

horror on parade
the fires of war march on while
death wields the baton
–
a murder of crows-
five men lower
their rifles

on a raven lake
the moon lies sleeping under
a blanket of stars
–
soft lapping-
the moon unwound
beside me

becoming August
fevered skin, heat lightning, and
the promise of rain
–
an azure pond-
fish break the surface
amid the evening rain

falling off my bike
I become one with the earth
for just a moment
–
june twilight-
our vows float away
on paper lanterns

swallowing my doubts
returning day after day
in case you wake up
–
patchwork sunlight-
I brush the sleep
from your lips