Seasons – Page 81 – Iron Haiku

a once proud lighthouse
wind battered, cracked and aging
still stands defiant
–
chalk cliffs-
scoured by
an angry sea

over greening trees
the ashen face of winter
watches the sunrise
–
peep frogs-
rainfall on
the river

corrupted and vile
poisonous invasive roots
unwilling to yield
–
oblivious-
wandering into
a nest of vipers

a fleeting moment
captured in a photograph
when we were in love
–
a glass of wine-
this shoebox full
of torn photos

angry bitter tears
burn as they roll down her face
and fall to the dirt
–
arid fields-
dust gathers
around his feet

downtown abandoned-
sickly yellow light leaks from
a single street lamp
–
moths-
the guttering
porch light

a cold waiting room-
absolutely terrified
of what will come next
–
eyes closed-
the taste of salt
in my veins

a cobblestone path-
the back garden gate flanked by
rose bushes in bloom
–
spring breeze-
the cloying scent
of honeysuckle

charcoal black velvet-
an upholstered sky pierced by
pinholes of starlight
–
desert mesa-
the broad expanse
of the midnight sky

nestled in the snow
a single long stemmed red rose
rests on your headstone
–
cold rain-
in the gutter
a bouquet of roses