Iron Haiku – Page 134 – A short form poetry blog

The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.
Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
I go to freeze on dark tides

I wake before three.

for another’s riches

Sea

offshore thunderstorms-
an old salt returns to the
bosom of the sea
–
crimson skies
a funeral boat
adrift and alight

Rot

a fallen cedar
rotting in the undergrowth
turning back to earth
–
soft underfoot-
a carpet of
rotting leaves

Honey

droning bumblebees
flit from flower to blossom
gathering nectar
–
a young black bear-
prospecting
for gold