Sleep – Page 9 – Iron Haiku

empty wine bottles-
binging our favorite series
into the wee hours
–
dying embers-
our feet under
the afghan

the tv on low-
your breathing slows as you fall
asleep on my chest
–
the risen moon-
soft cries heard
as you fight sleep

leaving my baggage
there’s far too much to carry
along this journey
–
the river left behind-
ewer water
darkens the road

your slow gentle breath
in the forest silver wolves
hold court with the moon
–
icy water-
the sound of blood
rushing in my ears

goose down sleeping bags
the morning mist rises as
we share the sunrise
–
breaking sunlight-
our bedroom window
kissed by frost

hard rain pelts the trees-
a hummingbird takes shelter
on my windowsill
–
desert noon-
seeking shelter
beneath the sand

a carpet of frost
woven from the morning dew
spreads across the grass
–
wrought iron trellis-
late autumn roses
frosted with white

worn jungle jacket-
three tours couldn’t prepare him
for life on the street
–
cold sweat-
desert sands
abrade his dreams

a black bitter pill
taken with a glass of bile-
so hard to swallow
–
november morn-
the push is over
now I taste salt.

a warm autumn glow-
dawn clouds steeped in honey spill
across the ocean
–
daybreak-
sunlight dances
on the wave tops