Sadness – Page 30 – Iron Haiku

his paper thin skin
stretched across arthritic hands
so easily bruised
–
a spreading elm-
our initials
overgrown

a shattered windshield-
shards of broken promises
spread across the road
–
text messages-
driving past what
used to be a car

family outings
picnics paid for with the blood
of fallen soldiers
–
small flags-
dates carved
in cold granite

clouds out ash and dust-
the soil of this arid land
affords no purchase
–
orange skies-
rivers of black glass
plunge into the sea

a candle and spoon-
the bare bulb above her head
casts a harsh shadow
–
on the corner-
slowing headlights
catch the rain

feeling quite tired-
always the one left behind
cleaning up your mess
–
monday morning –
waiting for
the phone call

nose against the glass
looking through my reflection
at life passing by
–
still water-
echos of
narcissus

pale whispers of men
pass by along the river
rowing in silence
–
walking stick in hand-
my footprints
fading

ringing in the night –
hearing the sound of your voice
I fall to my knees
–
silent crickets-
two marines stand
in my doorway

sharing in your pain-
my heart and soul wrapped around
your weary shoulders
–
staring at the floor-
the world rolls past
my window