Sound – Page 16 – Iron Haiku

a table for one-
looking for some privacy
and a little peace
–
bryant park-
a blanket
dewy grass

a sidewalk bistro-
over my coffee judging
everyone I see
–
al fresco-
sipping coffee
headphones on

one hapless squirrel-
suddenly half the city
plunged into darkness
–
pulling weeds-
squirrels drop acorns
on my head

well gone past midnight
swimming in the rain, lightning
off in the distance
–
scattered clothes-
midnight at the
swimming hole

a great streak of fire
across the afternoon sky-
shattered panes of glass
–
the small hours-
lawn chairs and
shooting stars

oars carve the water-
echoes of my lover’s voice
from the other shore
–
pale skin freckled-
fingers threading
through the water

searing hot asphalt-
children splash in the water
from a cracked hydrant
–
heavy branches-
in the shade
a rope swing

a thick veil of clouds-
the lullaby of crickets
sung beneath the rain
–
predawn fog-
a vixen’s cry
heralds the sun

atop cotton sheets
the drone of the ceiling fan
keeping me awake
–
sleeping dogs-
paddle fans spin
in lazy circles

knelt down before you-
my voice offered as a sign
of my devotion
–
scorched copper sky-
blood I’ve spilled
on your alter