Sean Sexton: Heavenward

An orange glow back-lights the sky before dawn
with approaching newness made of blue. The world
still drips from a perfect midafternoon rain arriving
yesterday to carry into dark. The moon is a morning
saucer pouring itself high into open sky; suggests
hidden hands and an upturned bedpan as Venus
keeps her distance in seeming embarrassment.

They’ll reunite later.

It’s been a month since our last coupling—travel
and illness intervening—yet we still know what
to do; modesty long past. Fields have grown full.
My face presses against your softness as if you
were a small, amiable planet barely visible in dim
light. How I drank in and swallowed your warmth,
straightened out your legs to behold and grasp your
tiny feet as if handling a lovely pair of shoes; every-
thing as I remember.

Afterward, little goes spoken between us. We rise,
bathe and dress, soon to leave one another, and
disappear into light.

~~~~

Copyright 2026 Sean Sexton

Sean Sexton was born and raised on his family’s Treasure Hammock Ranch and divides his time between writing, painting, and managing a 700-acre cow-calf and seed stock operation. He is author of Blood Writing: Poems (Anhinga Press); May Darkness Restore: Poems and Portals: Poems (Press 53).