Love – Page 20 – Iron Haiku

each time you leave me
it gets a little harder
to let you back in
–
terra cotta-
under the pot
the door key

hug your children tight
for tonight there are parents
who won’t get that chance
–
barren trees-
young branches
devoid of leaves

over chips and drinks
the sounds of friendship filter
through my old screen door
–
dark windows-
piles of chips
shufflled cards

our fingers entwined-
the dusky blush of daybreak
mirrored in your face
–
the rising sun-
my finger traces
along your lips

walking on eggshells
at the door I stop and turn-
you’re watching me leave
–
predawn-
hard and cold
the bedroom floor

your face in the glass
its hard to believe were just
an ocean apart
–
cold winds-
across the table
a sideways glance

the wind plays a cat
unravelling skeins of snow
as I walk along
–
the wee hours-
between my legs
a sleeping cat

the bedroom door wide
work clothes strewn across the floor
you and I asleep
–
endless meetings-
your fingers brush mine
by the sandwich tray

curling photographs-
remnants of an age gone by
taped to my mirror
–
sepia trees-
winter morning’s
gentle light

your head on my chest-
falling asleep together
in the afterglow
–
a warm breeze-
tangled together
in the tall grass