Sam Peterson

Some, for their lovers, mighty towers build
Tall works of shinning steel and solid stone
Others, still more devoted, shower jewels
Across the breasts, hands and wrists of their loves
...

As Beauty walks through morning's foggy light
And glows warm through opaque watery shimmer,
Like pastel dabbings from enlightened hand
Soft in line, yet sharper in inner shape.
...

Crushed again by mornings bright fertile light
Reminding me that you are not with me
Outside my door, gladiolas, poppies,
And lilacs bloom in their riot of color
...

Morning stretches and spreads her red fingers
Across the wall of the pale eastern sky
And I think of you, not being here with me
Then my world feels smaller, stranger, colder
...

His hands knotted tight, pulled up towards his face
Stick-like arms, seemingly blocking the world
On his side, often adjusting is body
His breathing ragged and irregular
...