Spring – Page 25 – Iron Haiku

the smile on your lips
reaches deep into your eyes
and into my heart
–
darkness-
reaching out
for your hand

the wind in your hair
miles unspooling behind us
escaping our past
–
needle and thread-
finding holes
in a spider’s web

flurries of spring snow-
aspen seeds riding the wind
drifting in the sun
–
iron anvils-
the thickening
of august

I’ve struggled so long
stumbling through the darkness
blinded by the truth
–
awakening-
the light of
a false dawn

the patter of rain-
rocking to the rhythm of
the impending storm
–
on the porch-
the evening air
thick with rain

thoughts of the fallen-
those who purchased our freedoms
with their flesh and blood
–
old glory-
a red haze blinding
the dogs of war

hand in hand with you
standing by the river’s edge
watching the drawbridge
–
tinted sunlight-
walking across
a fallen tree

northern white cedars
defying all odds, clinging
to the bare cliff face
–
crying gulls-
hatchling turtles
race to the sea

misty morning run-
lake water rolls off the bow
oars dipping in sync
–
fingers entwined-
a light rain
ripples

scrub trees, weeds and vines
she reasserts her claim on
the urban landscape
–
pottery shards-
new growth rooted
in broken asphalt