Tree – Page 11 – Iron Haiku

cold new england streets-
an old oak tree holds onto
the last leaf of fall
–
first snow-
winter arrives
far too soon

low distant thunder-
the smell of fall in the air
as the rain rolls in
–
sleeping cats-
outside the rain
turns to sleet

draped across the yard
a patchwork of autumn leaves
quilted by the wind
–
november air-
bronzed oak leaves
litter the ground

the living desert-
waves carried across the sand
by wind on the dunes
–
tumbleweeds-
a mindless expanse
of lifeless sand

I can’t sleep at all
visions of the restless dead
inhabit my dreams
–
moon shadows-
a raven robed
in cobwebs

the front door ajar-
shards of glass litter the hall
of my ruined home
–
crows take wing –
a fir crashes
to the forest floor

in the driving rain-
train doors close as a blue suit
runs past my window
–
dripping leaves-
rippled shadows
in clear water

a raging torrent-
black water choked with debris
and bad memories
–
murky waters-
stirring up
the past

on the village green
the shadows of injustice
hang from an oak tree
–
greasy smoke-
torches light
a darkened path

blonde and auburn leaves
kissed by the first touch of fall
decorate my lawn
–
home from work-
she tosses her hair
on the bed