Seasons – Page 28 – Iron Haiku

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

clouds in the water
far on the opposite shore
the blue pump house roof
–
changing leaves
painted at the
waterline

early autumn storms-
dark roiling thunderclouds vent
their mottled fury
–
distant thunder-
a cloud of starlings
darken the sky

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

low waning daylight-
songs of bullfrogs and crickets
usher in the night
–
twilight-
crickets sing
in my footsteps

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

the full solstice moon
begs forgiveness of the sun
for stealing her light
–
from dust to dust-
the fullness of time
forgives no one

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

peeling back the dark
exposing the ugly truth
to the light of day
–
low tide-
broken shells
on the sand