September 2016 – Iron Haiku

thin walls, raised voices
across the street, it’s last call
in my third floor flat
–
crow on a gaslight
fog blanketing
cobblestones

watching you watch me
through heavily lidded eyes
as sleep becomes you
–
brindle underbrush
a chipmunk rests
beneath the leaves

sinking in the marsh
twisted and leafless corpses
wither in the sun
–
restive fish
dipping into
the surface

nubile and supple
and every move reminds me
of my need for you
–
warm afternoon sun
sodden and hungry
awaiting the spawn

dressed in homespun
with an old straw broom, barefoot
sweeping the dirt floor
–
breaking sun
moist soil on
the coffin’s lid

a fire in the hearth
the snap of the autumn air
echoes in the flames
–
dying coals
fire orchids
in full bloom

tracing my fingers
across the sinuous curves
of your arching back
–
the crescent moon
your lips turn
towards mine

walking with my thoughts
the sudden flurry of wings
once more I’m alone
–
circling on updrafts
watching the fish
take wing

an afternoon walk
the shuffling of footsteps
through the fallen leaves
–
a quiet brook
the sharp snap
of a dry twig

running on instinct
pure adrenaline, and a
case of diet coke
–
pewter moonlight
silver fish turn
in pools of mist