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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).
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Oh, how I long for a small, amiable planet barely visible in dim light. In today’s dim-wittedness, love and its making can burst into supernovae or glow in the aftermath of fulfilled longing. All the Lunas and Venuses. May your wanderings bring you home.
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Yes, I too long for an amiable planet.
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Okay, Sean,
This is indeed an unusual love poem…so beautiful… (Seems you/Michael and George Bilgere have coordinated “coupling” poems today.) Yet, as a physician, I’m having to scratch my head a bit with the “bedpan”….I’ve never imagined bedpans as a metaphor for anything lovable, but I might get used to it, since I’ve been retired so long. 18 years since I’ve even seen one. A heavenly “bedpan” could be pouring out the night…I like that you give us old folks hope….still making love.
The last stanza is so good,
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This is one of your very, very best, dear Sean — what a love poem, and what love for so much. Palpable, as Christine says, palpable & generous, deeply quiet and of loving gratitude, & celestial too, this poem! Thank you, Sean & Michael.
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Sean is great, isn’t he? No one writes like him.
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Underlying all of Sean’s poems is a reverence for nature, for imagination, for memory and for people. I aspire to be as open to love as he is….
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A loud yes!
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Thankyou so much Christine. We comprise the early morning “shift” in commentary don’t we? Are you a farm girl originally?
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No Sean, not a farm girl. Just an early riser (one who usually starts her day with coffee and Vox Populi).
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Sean, what a beautiful poem. I took the time to read it aloud, tasting the music of the words, letting them fill the air. The love in this poem is palpable.
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