Iron Haiku – Page 311 – A short form poetry blog

Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
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
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my

Loss

another phone call-
your tired face deeply etched
with dissapointment
–
drifting snow-
fox prints near
an empty hutch

Ice

quietly cracking-
gentle waves frozen within
the river’s surface
–
irrigation pond-
young skaters
scarves and gloves

Beach

the incoming tide
laps the shore and erases
our sandy footprints
–
whispering surf-
driftwood
in the reeds