November 2019 – Iron Haiku

the cool below ground-
laying in the winter stores
before the first snow
–
late autumn morn-
a taste of last june’s
strawberry jam

steel axe and wedges-
an awful lot of effort
for a pile of wood
–
first snow-
chipmunks bedded
in the wood pile

thanksgiving morning-
a rafter of wild turkeys
wander through my yard
–
november frost-
a fresh dusting
of fallen leaves

sheets pooled on the floor-
the graceful swell of your hips
framed by the moonlight
–
lingering dawn-
one final kiss
graces your lips

an old masters hand-
long unused sable brushes
come back to life
–
hazy morning-
blobs of white
dot the hillside

a weathered park bench
waiting on the bus a child
takes the time to sit
–
early afternoon-
pigeons gather by
an empty bench

sputtering neon-
piles of rags weakly lit by
the staccato glow
–
november night-
threadbare blankets
in the doorway

softly falling rain-
I finally let you go
for your sake and mine
–
glass in his hair-
a husband waits
in anguished silence

well past closing time-
we rehash old war stories
over onion rings
–
a dirty booth-
my chipped coffee cup
bottomless

hourglass summer-
memories of time we spent
slip through my fingers
–
driftwood-
a gull’s shadow
passes by