Time – Page 56 – Iron Haiku

her worn threadbare coat-
piles of bread crumbs spread between
the bird lady’s feet
–
a park bench-
sparrows land
on my shoulder

tiny ballet shoes-
waiting for the curtain in
crinoline and lace
–
sunday afternoon-
long hours
at the barre

the village emptied
bodies lay unburied with
no one left to mourn
–
tumbleweeds-
sun scoured bones
picked clean

ghosts of the future
block my way and haunt me with
all I could have been
–
heavy rain-
our great oak
uprooted

building my fortress
I bury my emotions
beneath the first stone
–
cacophony-
late night frogs
in my stone walls

white flecks of sea foam
spraying off the ocean waves
and the rising tide
–
onshore winds-
smell of salt
and the sea

white on shades of blue-
the day ends as sailors tire
of chasing the wind
–
moonlight-
sailboats crease
the black water

the small of your back
illuminated softly
by a slice of moon
–
waterfall-
hair cascading
across my pillow

my sins behind me
wrapped in white linen steeped in
your divinity
–
under water-
the surface
receding

such oppressive heat-
my sleeping cat slowly drips
from his windowsill
–
shimmering sand-
false promises
in the distance