The Morning Sun

The Morning Sun

by

Arnold K. Sherman

(c)

The morning Sun

through slotted blinds

cast shadows on the wall

We touch and turn

I turn again

and watch, unseen

And, with arching back

and arms up stretched

and legs apart and tensing

her eyelids flutter and

her lips curl up

Hips cant, right hand rising

and falling She turns

and I rest my head and

lightly brush her breast

My right hand joins her left

then both raised

as heads rotate and

fingers run through hair

which flows free

All seen through shadows on the wall

I rise, we touch

Shadows not at all

It's morning