Sadness – Page 36 – Iron Haiku

the black charred remnants
of forty years of marriage
smolder between us
–
a fallen tree-
reduced
to ash

almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed
–
fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm

rooted to the ground
frozen, my mind replaying
one moment in time
–
blinding sun-
the city street
unnaturally quiet

icy drops of rain
slide past my ear and linger
down along my chin
–
parking-
raInbows slide
towards the drain

breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it
–
a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window

standing behind you
the center of attention
almost out of view
–
ill wind-
spiders repair
their broken webs

feeling impotent
my head full of words but I’m
unable to speak
–
snow fall-
staring out my
hospital window

on my mantlepiece
rest all the pieces of you
finally at peace
–
love letters-
ashes of
old flames

another phone call-
your tired face deeply etched
with dissapointment
–
drifting snow-
fox prints near
an empty hutch

the walk to the car-
turning my jacket collar
up against the wind
–
aging-
cold breath
on my neck