Sadness – Page 29 – Iron Haiku

doe-eyed sycophants-
suckling at the teat of
this festering pig
–
overcast-
the lack of sunlight
goes unnoticed

all I have of you-
the crossword and a ring left
by your coffee cup
–
saplings-
rooted
in the shade

looking back in time
pictures of who we once were
under cellophane
–
rich brown soil-
an old green tin
a child’s treasure

she turns a shy smile-
a web of hairline cracks form
in his tough facade
–
cobwebs-
broken plaster
litters the floor

holes in the floorboards-
the regal oak panel door
left hanging askew
–
no longer a home-
dim autumn light
caught in the cobwebs

testing the waters-
I dip my toe in to check
if I’ll let you in
–
soft light-
my door
slightly ajar

the knife in my back
carved the windows in the walls
I’d built for myself
–
creeping ivy-
ruins of stone
foundations

the lobsterman’s wife
watching the lighthouse at the
dying of the day
–
silent passage-
darkening water
laps the shore

underneath my bed
photos of my childhood
slowly fading lies
–
an old cigar box-
sacred relics
of my youth

home with my regrets
I should have asked for a kiss
when I had the chance
–
your upturned lips-
moths flutter
in the porch light