Iron Haiku – Page 175 – A short form poetry blog

Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
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
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.

Raccoons

well before sunrise
the clamor of rubbish bins
echoes in my sleep
–
venus rising-
masked bandits
steal my trash

Snow

the scent of rabbit
coaxes the fox from her den
and into the snow
–
late winter-
fresh snow
on the deadfall

Stone

so many evenings
spent in stony solitude
with yet without you
–
rain etched stones-
the once neat path
overgrown