Sadness – Page 2 – Iron Haiku

under a blood moon-
take my name from off your lips
and release my soul
–
wet ink-
my name
bound to you

alone at the bar-
a campari and soda
by a full ashtray
–
neon lights-
my reflection in
an empty glass

the screen door askew-
on the dead oak a tire swing
full of autumn leaves
–
a rusted bike-
through the spokes
foxtails grow

a worn dinette set-
memories of old comforts
in the falling rain
–
water crackers-
a chipped tea cup
rimmed in red

the senbazuru-
origami alchemy
brings my cranes to life
–
parchment skin –
rice paper slowly
creased and folded

hard edged and soulless-
the treacherous dawn comes to
spirit you away
–
softly closing doors-
again I awake
to an empty bed

encroaching midnight-
the doomsday clock poised to toll
humanity’s dirge
–
pools of red wax-
guttering candles
cast their meager light

honeysuckle wine-
content letting the front porch
host my slow decline
–
passing cars-
an afghan shrouds
her empty rocker

under a shade elm
I leave a small stone marking
the site of my grave
–
cut white lilies-
so casually
discarded

a thin scrim of frost-
muddy waters churn beneath
this fragile veneer
–
storm clouds-
reopening
old wounds