Time – Page 64 – Iron Haiku

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

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

thousands of moments
the taste of a prior life
memories of you
–
late winter-
pockmarks
in the snow

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

open bed pickup
memories caught by the wind
litter the highway
–
twisted fingers-
brittle pages of
her wedding album

coruscating snow
slithers across the highway
hastened by the wind
–
morning sun-
cherry blossoms
in the snow

at once of two worlds-
straddling the razor’s edge
between life and death
–
winter sun-
the hawk’s shadow
grows smaller

alone in the dark
the hunter chases his prey
deep into the night
–
cold moonlight-
he claims his place
among the stars

in the dead of night
the monster under my bed
turns out to be me
–
skeletal branches-
the window framing
unfounded fears

I wear this body
as shroud around my soul
woven from my life
–
lemon blossoms-
rain darkens
a terra cotta pot