Iron Haiku – Page 352 – A short form poetry blog

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
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.
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my

Corvid

a murder of crows
as one silently take wing
into the august sky
–
turning winds-
a crow flies
before the sun

Houston

hoping against hope
to stem the incoming tide
and still it rises
–
august-
forsaken
by the sun

Regret

keeping company
with all my bad decisions
and indiscretions
–
fresh snow-
still here
at last call