Love – Page 19 – Iron Haiku

your door left open-
looking back at you as I
close it behind me
–
moonlight-
your mobile
slowly winds down

sawdust on the floor-
the earthy aroma of
horse manure and hay
–
a saddle blanket-
riding bareback
in the tall grass

fingers intertwined
your slippered feet atop mine
before the fire
–
two dozen years-
still waking up
next to you

a fleeting moment
captured in a photograph
when we were in love
–
a glass of wine-
this shoebox full
of torn photos

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

thousands of moments
the taste of a prior life
memories of you
–
late winter-
pockmarks
in the snow

I wake to nothing
but the impression of you
left in my mattress
–
cold sweat-
twisted in
my bedsheets

snoring quietly
your head still on my shoulder-
our show just over
–
dreams of snow-
waking to
tv static

white breath and mittens-
on the pond shaved ice gathers
the sounds of laughter
–
heavy blankets-
the sound
of falling snow

in my father’s chair
still unprepared to carry
this heavy burden
–
fallen acorns-
my little feet
in your shoes