Iron Haiku – Page 367 – A short form poetry blog

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
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.
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

Remembrance

in a dusty tin
a collection of the days
that lead me to you
–
withered leaves-
the memories of
an old diary

History

continuity-
ancient traditions upheld
for generations
–
lichens on stone-
the huron pine
adds another ring

Workers

fields of wildflowers
fastidiously tended
by hard working bees
–
summer afternoon-
nectar turning
to honey