Time – Page 67 – Iron Haiku

your face in the glass
its hard to believe were just
an ocean apart
–
cold winds-
across the table
a sideways glance

bored eyes unfocused
staring out the car window
the guardrail floating
–
migrating geese-
an endless river
of taillights

the wind plays a cat
unravelling skeins of snow
as I walk along
–
the wee hours-
between my legs
a sleeping cat

the bedroom door wide
work clothes strewn across the floor
you and I asleep
–
endless meetings-
your fingers brush mine
by the sandwich tray

encroaching shadows
race to fill the void left by
the crumbling day
–
sleeping dogs-
the shade of
a dying elm

the river of time
flows past this open window
and into my past
–
distant clouds-
a riverbed
of broken earth

the new morning sun
shining through the mist after
a hesitant rain
–
sunset-
a sudden tattoo
on her tin roof

driving home alone
all the while the taste of you
lingers on my tongue
–
an awkward kiss-
moths flutter
near the porch light

curling photographs-
remnants of an age gone by
taped to my mirror
–
sepia trees-
winter morning’s
gentle light

from a different life
the passing of an old friend
rests on my shoulders
–
moonrise-
a silver wind
sways the curtains