Iron Haiku – Page 435 – 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
The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass
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

Seeingseeing

lies in the mirror
not what we truly are but
what we wish to be
–
leafless-
reflections in
the watery sky

Posthumous

pulled taut and snapping
the pole holding fast the flag
standing at half mast
–
icy rain
her cheeks
freshly wet

Slumber

waiting for the thaw
beneath fallen leaves and snow
a box turtle sleeps
–
frosted windows-
deeply burrowed
under blankets