Iron Haiku – Page 293 – A short form poetry blog

The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.
Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
I go to freeze on dark tides

I wake before three.

for another’s riches

Paper

written in anger
signed in blood and gently sealed
with the kiss of death
–
impending storm-
newspapers aloft
in the morning wind

Cold

hushed elevator-
the open doors close once more
leaving us alone
–
frosted glass-
winter air
seeps in

Invitation

each time you leave me
it gets a little harder
to let you back in
–
terra cotta-
under the pot
the door key