Travel – Page 9 – Iron Haiku

a shattered windshield-
shards of broken promises
spread across the road
–
text messages-
driving past what
used to be a car

pale whispers of men
pass by along the river
rowing in silence
–
walking stick in hand-
my footprints
fading

a cool cloudy night-
the horizon aglow with
fingers of lighting
–
dry lightning-
fire licks the walks
of the arroyo

unspeakable acts-
unlearned lessons of the past
repeating again
–
cattle cars-
disappear within
the gates of hell

the last white rhino-
a moment of extinction
right before our eyes
–
blood in the dirt-
a portrait with
his latest kill

flat black soulless eyes
devoid of humanity
staring back at me
–
cold city street-
trying not to see
the homeless

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

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

the sliding doors shut
as the train pulls away I’m
still on the platform
–
changing winds-
the last robin
takes wing

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