Water – Page 47 – Iron Haiku

as I drive away
another grain of sand falls
in my life’s hourglass
–
walking the shore
the sand moves
beneath our feet

feeling the glass give
reaching in through the mirror
to pull myself out
–
glassy water
ripples spread
across the surface

my wet business shirt
translucent where it clings to
the swell of your hips
–
cloudburst
unexpectedly
caught outside

loving you out loud
and I’m not even a bit
apologetic
–
trumpeter swans
building their nest atop
a beaver lodge

in the pre dawn hours
the sounds of distant thunder
lull me back to sleep
–
a hard rain
drumming on
rhododendrons

brief is our passage
across the river of time
into the unknown
–
oak saplings
from acorns
never unearthed

a misty red haze
growing stronger feeding on
hate, fear, and anger
–
cold rain
wolves circle
a wounded deer

staring at the stars
she walks in the warm surf while
winds tousle her hair
–
herring gulls
skimming on the
offshore breeze

physically drained
emotionally wiped out
I have no spoons left
–
driftwood
beaten by
the surf

the rain’s heady scent
rolls in on the thickened air
of the coming storm
–
hummingbirds
weave the air above
a honeysuckle vine