Iron Haiku – Page 187 – 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.

Dust

friends and enemies
all are but dust as I wait
for mortality
–
a dark attic-
old records
gathering dust

Waiting

a cold rain falling
I sit in the dark waiting
for you to come home
–
past midnight
your car’s tires
on the drive

Water

heavy water jugs-
her small bare feet unwashed and
calloused from the road
–
the rivers edge-
awaiting her turn
in the water