Spring – Page 15 – Iron Haiku

earbuds on silent-
subtly eavesdropping on
your conversation
–
sudden chills-
mantras I whisper
to myself

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

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

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

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

two dark silhouettes
framed in the open window
sitting side by side
–
tails twitching-
warm dreams
in the sunlight