Iron Haiku – Page 385 – A short form poetry blog

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

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Lake

misty morning run-
lake water rolls off the bow
oars dipping in sync
–
fingers entwined-
a light rain
ripples

Gaia

scrub trees, weeds and vines
she reasserts her claim on
the urban landscape
–
pottery shards-
new growth rooted
in broken asphalt