River – Page 8 – Iron Haiku

traveling down this
river of asphalt toward
the vanishing point
–
maple leaves
swirling eddies in
a mountain steam

guiding my journey
walking with the ghost of you
on my chosen path
–
dripping boulders
surging white water
streams diverging

thin walls, raised voices
across the street, it’s last call
in my third floor flat
–
crow on a gaslight
fog blanketing
cobblestones

nubile and supple
and every move reminds me
of my need for you
–
warm afternoon sun
sodden and hungry
awaiting the spawn

an afternoon walk
the shuffling of footsteps
through the fallen leaves
–
a quiet brook
the sharp snap
of a dry twig

clinging to the light
for fear I may yet answer
when the darkness calls
–
spring rains
surging cataracts
once docile streams

impatient lemmings
craggy rocks block their passage
to the sea below
–
spring rains
a beaver dam
overflowing

across the table
the chasm between us grows
wider day by day
–
a sudden stampede
of white horses
August rains

a resting mayfly
the dimples in the water
signaling a carp
–
spreading ripples
a gossamer wing
on the surface

when put to paper
a masterpiece is born from
a single feather
–
a stream flows
from my hand
in fits and starts