Iron Haiku – Page 445 – A short form poetry blog

Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
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.
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Waves, softly lapping

Dappled light wanders.

Across the lush, verdant grass
I go to freeze on dark tides

I wake before three.

for another’s riches

Shoreline

as the tide comes in
the quiet surf erases
our mingled footprints
–
salt breezes
clammers digging
in the wet sand

Runnels

a hot summer morn
in the curl of a turned leaf
the gathering dew
–
a ringing anvil
collecting
beads of sweat

Future

flooded rice paddies
on the roadside sheaves of straw
drying in the sun
–
high spring sun
nimble fingers
sowing wheat