Iron Haiku – Page 434 – 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.
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
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass

Lune

visiting the well
my wooden bucket dipping
deep in the moonlight
–
alongside the lake-
the harvest moon
follows me home

Heath

splintering sunlight
broad winter shadows reaching
out across the lea
–
fresh snow-
a smattering
of paw prints

History

bitter grievances
at the holiday table
long past time for peace
–
unrelenting
a winter river
choked with ice