One Rural Crowning

(Poem of the Week)

That November night

I was a queen

and you a king.

You played the royal

jukebox, and your ceaseless

arms held me while you sang in my ear.

My boots knocked

on the wood floor

to follow you

to your ruby pick-up

that cold night

filled with country music,

a billion stars

and a Neon Moon.

You were warm—

like the whiskey—

you flowed through my blood,

and your kisses—

your kisses still dance in my mind.

All night I was your queen

and you my king,

as we ruled the stars,

the moon, the breeze.

Your gentle touch,

I still feel.

Your soft whisper,

I still hear.

That November night

you reminded me—

And when the stars disappeared

I said goodbye

to my grand countryman

until Spring.

—Cori Lark

All rights reserved.

One Rural Crowning will be the last poem by Cori Lark shared on TwilightLetters.com.

For more, please find her books on-line: Electric Ink & Corina.

Thank you.

#travelpoetry

Photo by Connor Danylenko