Seasons – Page 73 – Iron Haiku

in a basement bar
the windows dirty with time
drinking my coffee
–
sheets of rain-
a community
of strangers

reeds and rushes-
a warm tide ebbs from the marsh
and runs to the sea
–
sea glass-
walking the beach
at low tide

as my eyesight fades
I think I finally see
my destination
–
a grey heron-
motionless in the
standing water

staring at the floor
scuffed and worn beneath my seat
from those in my shoes
–
dawn breaks-
outside the
waiting room

a quick glimpse into
the recesses of my soul
is all I can bear
–
sinister clouds-
reflections of
black water

elusive silence-
a old game of whispers played
within my own head
–
before dawn-
the wind talking
with the leaves

now all that remains-
the sweet taste of success and
your cherry lip gloss
–
fresh cut grass-
an old blanket and
poetry

waves rise up and fall
the rhythm of the ocean
moves us together
–
surfing-
the swell
of your hips

families asunder-
buzzards circling high above
the southwest desert
–
riding the smoke-
wild horses
in the distance

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