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Moon Blanket
You're the candy bar
I want to eat
the sugar dropp on my tongue
and you tease like summer promises
in the back of your pickup truck
and I look up and can only see stars
and your mouth
on mine.
You start me up like that custom hemi of yours
and make me roar
make hair pin turns in my hair
which make me squeal to
the stars above
twinkling
on top of us
on this mattress
as we lay,
only the moon
for a blanket.
Music blares from the radio
someone singing of love
but you're kissing me now
riding cowgirl style.
poem
by
Lonnie Hicks
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