Iron Haiku – Page 295 – A short form poetry blog

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

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass

Loss

hug your children tight
for tonight there are parents
who won’t get that chance
–
barren trees-
young branches
devoid of leaves

Reclamation

an empty city-
young maples rises up through
the broken sidewalk
–
an old plow-
reclaimed
by the forest

Homeless

asleep on a bench
the hard rap of a nightstick
startles him awake
–
dark rain-
wet newspaper
her only refuge