Sound – Page 12 – Iron Haiku

sepia photos
memories of summerfields
slowly turn to dust
–
summer sky-
carousel music
on the pier

incessant beeping-
cobwebs in my coffee cup
my head thick with sleep
–
gentle sunlight-
irish breakfast and
the sunday puzzle

wild racing thoughts-
my fix is the sleep I so
desperately crave
–
an open window-
coyotes call out
in the rising dawn

I can feel you breathe
swaddled in my dead embrace
my arms paralyzed
–
a twin bed-
your pajamas
against my skin

staring at the clock
waiting an eternity
for the time to change
–
my mind’s ear-
wide awake
in the dark

pumpkins on the porch-
fall winds whisper through the night
welcoming the frost
–
evening winds-
the waltzing of
fallen leaves

autumn afternoon-
the sound of a cricket lost
amid the tall grass
–
rotting wood-
silent shadows
of the forest

staccato drumming-
the evening rain disappears
into the night’s fog
–
scorched earth-
rain on the tin roof
far too late

emerging starlight-
walking past the coal stained homes
the old lamplighter
–
freshly cut grass-
rusted ice tongs
in the tool shed

river clay and dust
takes on a life of its own
much to my chagrin
–
pounding rain-
the stream a torrent
of mud and debris