Rain – Page 9 – Iron Haiku

ghosts of the future
block my way and haunt me with
all I could have been
–
heavy rain-
our great oak
uprooted

afternoon hours spent
talking laundry off the line
ahead of the rain
–
the laundromat-
hard plastic chairs
and ennui

the stones in my path
used to build a foundation
keeping me grounded
–
peace-
rain runs off
the temple roof

in a basement bar
the windows dirty with time
drinking my coffee
–
sheets of rain-
a community
of strangers

a candle and spoon-
the bare bulb above her head
casts a harsh shadow
–
on the corner-
slowing headlights
catch the rain

in a farmer’s wall
amid the moss and loose stones
frogs sing in the night
–
crickets-
rain traces
stone to stone

years of my life spent
in the futile pursuit of
bubbe’s chicken soup
–
easy rain-
sandwiches and
tomato soup

over greening trees
the ashen face of winter
watches the sunrise
–
peep frogs-
rainfall on
the river

angry bitter tears
burn as they roll down her face
and fall to the dirt
–
arid fields-
dust gathers
around his feet

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