Winter – Page 27 – Iron Haiku

waiting on my turn-
step by step moving forward
ever so slowly
–
traffic-
another day
turns to night

the black charred remnants
of forty years of marriage
smolder between us
–
a fallen tree-
reduced
to ash

almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed
–
fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm

boots in the water
my line slack on the surface
suddenly pulled taut
–
low morning light-
steam rises
off the lake

icy drops of rain
slide past my ear and linger
down along my chin
–
parking-
raInbows slide
towards the drain

breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it
–
a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window

standing behind you
the center of attention
almost out of view
–
ill wind-
spiders repair
their broken webs

sitting on my couch
not sure if I can get up
after shoveling
–
rabbit tracks-
a snowy owl
motionless

feeling impotent
my head full of words but I’m
unable to speak
–
snow fall-
staring out my
hospital window

on my mantlepiece
rest all the pieces of you
finally at peace
–
love letters-
ashes of
old flames