Breath – Iron Haiku

lingering aimless-
attempting to cross in vain
the border of death
–
almost free-
weightless and yet
still tied to the earth

a neglected path-
moss hides a forgotten shrine
the small gods long gone
–
meditation-
clay teapots
dry in the sun

weary of donning
this mask, this gown, these gloves, I
once more go to work
–
hospital corridors-
the white noise
of dying

metal folding chairs-
coffee cans half full of ash
on the fire escape
–
urban jungle-
pole beans climb
my barred windows

standing by the sink-
I feel the warmth from your feet
on the bathroom floor
–
lost in your dreams-
I silence my alarm
before it wakes you

under a blood moon-
take my name from off your lips
and release my soul
–
wet ink-
my name
bound to you

the rustling breeze-
leaves coerced from their branches
to dance in the wind
–
quarantined-
milkweed seeds float
past my window

a cold night’s work done-
the creeping light of daybreak
seeps into my tomb
–
guttering torchlight-
weary of the death
that slakes my thirst

seeking inner peace-
silently blessing all those
who would do me ill
–
approaching dawn-
tea and birdsong
refills my soul

an old farmers sink-
her mind miles away from the
blood in the carpet
–
back garden soil-
no amount of soap
makes her feel clean