Sonnet Vi Poem by Sam Peterson

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

To want you in my bed and in my arms
Moving together in our carnal dance
To kiss, stroke, probe, tremble and touch as one
Then to shutter in our satisfaction

How is it still unchanged after so long?
Have we drunk from the gods’ honeyed mead-horn
And turned back never stopping hands of time?
Have I feelings of an earlier age?

This morning without you, I miss your eyes
And struggle with the loss of paradise