Haven


Come, Love, and rest
your sleep in me.
Let our two sleeps
slip back and forth between

our selves in a tide
rising—our breath
the night's deep wave.
I will hurt nothing in you

as you eddy and surge,
as we swell, drift,
first into, then out of our
one body. 

Only by the faint taste
of morning's salt on our skin
will we know how far
we have been.


                         —Paulann Petersen

Poetry, Vol. CLXXI, No. 4, Copyright 1998, Modern Poetry Association
The Wild Awake, Confluence Press, 2002

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