Iron Haiku – Page 234 – A short form poetry blog

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
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass

Rot

all the leaves scattered
standing despite itself but
rotten at the core
–
a forest altar-
oaken pews
standing empty

Empty

hundreds of candles-
an unlit testament to
this empty vigil
–
tumbled stone-
autumn’s first light
warms the piazza

Quiet

soft leather armchairs-
whispers of conversations
too quiet to hear
–
a lone robin-
her tweets
unread