Iron Haiku – Page 456 – A short form poetry blog

The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Crimson clouds hang low.

The day’s embers glow softly,

burning down to dusk.
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
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
The night air’s cold hand

reaches down and pulls my breath

in shards from my chest.

Release

wrapped in a blanket
of condolence and comfort
still mired in grief
–
shooting stars
crossing skyward
on golden wings

Hunter

searching for respite
from the stalkers in the night
attacking my toes
–
morning dew
gossamer threads
catch the sunrise

Revealed

ashen faced, burning
private humiliations
displayed in public
–
pine boughs
a glimpse
of scarlet