Iron Haiku – Page 59 – 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
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

Comfort

early afternoon-
a warm loaf of crusty bread
cooling on the stove
–
pumpkin candles-
easing into
a steaming bath

Tryst

the dimly lit booth-
a small guttering candle
spills it’s meager light
–
two martinis-
your foot on
my bar stool

Ripple

widening ripples-
a heron’s reflection
reaches the far shore
–
black water-
a willow branch
touches the moon