Sun – Page 26 – Iron Haiku

before the mirror
staring into the unknown-
who the hell am I
–
sunday afternoon-
looking for a family
I swab my cheek

warm morning sunlight
shines upon on a stranger’s face
in my hotel bed
–
full moon-
muddy tracks
lead to my bed

at work dreaming of
a caribbean romance
before summer ends
–
a dockside bar
rum runners and
buffet tunes

a horseshoe crab shell
empty in the shadow of
an upturned rowboat
–
moonlit surf-
the lifeguard tower
stands empty

the sea in the wind
salt, sand, and tropical sun
tangled in her hair
–
amid the waves-
she watches ships
ply her waters

clumps of garden weeds-
the summer sun warms my back
and eases my mind
–
a golden breeze-
the wind caught
in her hair

a bite in the air-
nighthawks begin flying south
along the shoreline
–
orange moon-
the year’s work
ready for harvest

still she counts the ships-
her thick wool sweater stained red
with the setting sun
–
date night-
she sits at a table
set for one

an empty rowboat
tied down to a weathered dock
rocking in the swells
–
salt spray-
the old pier’s
bleached bones

tending his garden-
rich black soil etched deep into
his leathery hands
–
honeybees
a thistle hides
among the roses