Sound – Page 41 – Iron Haiku

putting down the phone
the harsh meaning of your words
doesn’t register
–
distant rain-
unexpected
lightning

asleep on the beach-
so far away from winter
and your icy touch
–
caribbean surf-
tracing lazy circles
on the small your back

by her bedroom door
listening to my daughter
cry herself to sleep
–
leafless boughs-
no resistance to
the howling winds

echoing silence-
bodies strewn haphazardly
on the downtown streets
–
an absence of birds-
villagers gather fish
in the receding sea

heads bowed in respect
under an overcast sky
the flag at half mast
–
rising winds-
halyards ring
the flagpole

eyes closed, steady breaths-
trying to push the anger
back into the box
–
boiling seas-
lava slowly turns
to cold stone

sheets of winter rain
wrung from the lowering sky
sideways in the wind
–
morning run-
frozen leaves
crack underfoot

from across the room
I catch sight of your face and
my breath escapes me
–
waiting in a queue-
plumes of breath
and exhaust

gentle drops of rain
fall from the trees to collect
on my upturned face
–
quiet water-
minnows surface
beneath my shadow

stone walls and dirt floors-
candle flames cling to their wicks
throwing dark shadows
–
straw bedding-
a tallow candle’s
uneasy light