Iron Haiku – Page 184 – A short form poetry blog

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
The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.
I go to freeze on dark tides

I wake before three.

for another’s riches
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future

Sparks

warm potbellied stove-
the winter air crackles with
electricity
–
dry night air-
your touch
shocking

Abed

the wan morning light-
wrapped up in your nakedness
unwilling to move
–
your damp hair-
for now I’m
the big spoon

Love

empty wine bottles-
binging our favorite series
into the wee hours
–
dying embers-
our feet under
the afghan