Iron Haiku – Page 308 – A short form poetry blog

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
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 night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.

Slide

icy drops of rain
slide past my ear and linger
down along my chin
–
parking-
raInbows slide
towards the drain

Rain

breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it
–
a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window

Puppets

standing behind you
the center of attention
almost out of view
–
ill wind-
spiders repair
their broken webs