Sadness – Page 10 – Iron Haiku

the cruel midday sun-
neat rows of old cars in their
final rusting place
–
high noon-
steam billows from
my open hood

our long entrance hall-
the empty peg on the wall
where your coat once hung
–
distant smoke-
years of farmland
turned to ash

months of sundays gone-
I still just can’t get used to
sleeping without you
–
autumn winds-
the restless swirl
of fallen leaves

afternoon sunlight-
an old man and his grandson
asleep on the floor
–
sunday mornings-
step stool by the sink
shaving together

pale silver moonlight
captured in the broken glass
strewn across the street
–
autum eve-
crickets silenced
by shattering glass

my bedside vigil-
each moment slipping away
taking you with them
–
machines hum-
outside your window
a starless night

vampires do exist-
in fact I’m sure one lives in
this overstuffed couch
–
the forest floor-
twigs and sticks snap
underfoot

in the western sky
the sun sets on iron clouds
promising thunder
–
leaves in the wind-
the low rumble
of distant thunder

a stone foundation
the remnants of a sawmill
lost to the forest
–
after the fire-
the chimney casts
a long shadow

rustling blankets-
your padding to the bathroom
teases me from sleep
–
the drive home-
fallen leaves
blanket the road