Iron Haiku – Page 240 – A short form poetry blog

The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
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
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.

Ballerina

tiny ballet shoes-
waiting for the curtain in
crinoline and lace
–
sunday afternoon-
long hours
at the barre

Dead

the village emptied
bodies lay unburied with
no one left to mourn
–
tumbleweeds-
sun scoured bones
picked clean

Shadows

moonlight in the trees-
silently a cold wind shifts
shadows on the snow
–
long shadows-
the warm wind
walks me home