Seasons – Page 74 – Iron Haiku

lying in my bed
beautiful and poisonous
twisted in the sheets
–
african sun-
death lurks
in the tall grass

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

leaves swirl in the wind-
a blackbird takes his respite
on my windowsill
–
dandelion seeds-
wishes adrift
on the wind

an empty porch swing-
lazy paddle fans disturb
the hot southern air
–
the forest floor-
dragonflies still
in the thick air

as venus rises
the sun on the horizon
sets the trees aglow
–
western fires-
too soon dowsed
by a deluge of stars

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

wide open prairies
the promise of a new life
in every acre
–
covered wagons-
homesteads built
on sacred land