Iron Haiku – Page 360 – A short form poetry blog

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
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.
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

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

Fog

evergreen hillsides
barely clothed in morning mist
slowly disrobing
–
splitting wood-
the morning haze
burns away

Vacation

giggling children
burying my feet in warm
caribbean sands
–
shearwaters-
palms fronds
in the breeze

Senses

your head on my chest
my face buried in your hair
breathing in your scent
–
the witching hour-
watching your heart
softly beating