Iron Haiku – Page 172 – A short form poetry blog

The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
I go to freeze on dark tides

I wake before three.

for another’s riches
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass
Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future

Ice

icy morning air-
tender fingers deftly tease
the breath from my chest
–
a silent stream-
ice flows from
the jagged rock

Stones

an old foundation
reclaimed by a forest of
thickly tangled vines
–
blowing snow-
winds sing in
the chimney

Homesick

strange muted voices
filtered through thin hotel walls
keeping me awake
–
overcast-
alone again
far from home