Sound – Page 37 – Iron Haiku

unspeakable acts-
unlearned lessons of the past
repeating again
–
cattle cars-
disappear within
the gates of hell

dusty fountain pens-
drawers full of love letters she
never meant to send
–
in the stacks-
quietly I try
to catch your eye

fingers intertwined
your slippered feet atop mine
before the fire
–
two dozen years-
still waking up
next to you

the last white rhino-
a moment of extinction
right before our eyes
–
blood in the dirt-
a portrait with
his latest kill

a once proud lighthouse
wind battered, cracked and aging
still stands defiant
–
chalk cliffs-
scoured by
an angry sea

over greening trees
the ashen face of winter
watches the sunrise
–
peep frogs-
rainfall on
the river

barnacles gather
just below the waterline
where the piers once stood
–
rotting pilings-
waves, the echoes
of children’s laughter

under crushing debt
the future turns to ashes
swept by our children
–
wild fire-
fed by embers
on the wind

any hope of sleep
spurned by the approaching dawn
and a snoring dog
–
sleeping dogs-
the violent death
of a cardboard box

the low morning sun
full of threats and promises
through the falling snow
–
skies alight-
the rumble
low and throaty