River – Page 3 – Iron Haiku

winter moths gather-
snowflakes lit by the street lamp
in the bitter night
–
gathering drifts-
ice crawls up
my window

heavy water jugs-
her small bare feet unwashed and
calloused from the road
–
the rivers edge-
awaiting her turn
in the water

leaving my baggage
there’s far too much to carry
along this journey
–
the river left behind-
ewer water
darkens the road

my eyelids heavy
weighed down by lies from the past
that I can’t escape
–
dark skies-
mountain rains
flood the valley

threatening storm clouds-
filling sandbags to ward off
the impending flood
–
a neglected barn-
keeping vigil over
rising waters

a black bitter pill
taken with a glass of bile-
so hard to swallow
–
november morn-
the push is over
now I taste salt.

the living desert-
waves carried across the sand
by wind on the dunes
–
tumbleweeds-
a mindless expanse
of lifeless sand

brown rivers swollen-
remnants of our prior lives
piled up in the streets
–
autumn sun-
in my living room
the black waterline

no one’s allowed in-
there’s only room for me in
this suit of armor
–
swift water-
armored scales
dimple the surface

late into the night-
pouring over lesson plans
and student papers
–
a clenched fist-
time still runs
through my fingers