you lay on the sand, head resting on your arms.
Through dime store sunglasses I observe
your back shoulder galaxy of freckles
and work to find, and name,
your late afternoon, weekend tan, constellations.
Laying my head on your shoulder blade North Star
I hear your breathing - in an out, and growing deeper
sounding like an Oklahoma tornado.
And your lungs create a noise
like the rise and fall of an emerging empire.
Looking sideways towards your Southern Hemisphere
the curve of your lower back, and its beads of early summer sweat,
looks as if it would be easily able to comfortably cradle
the entire earth, or at least
my own small world.
Author Bio:
Steven Harz is the 2013 Winner of the People’s Poetry Contest and at 3-time winner of The Iron Writer Challenge. A graduate of Towson (MD) University’s College of Fine Arts and Communications, Steven writes short fiction and poetry designed to invoke images of loves discovered, lost, and sometimes found again. Steven’s work has appeared in The Germ, Tracks, Indigo Rising, Voices 2, Words+Pictures, Donut Factory, Pocket Thoughts, and Ink Monkey Magazine.