A poem by Julia R. DeStefano

Photo by Peter Kasprzyk on Unsplash

If Johnny’s paradise was coffee with June,

was it paradise lost without her -

and did he tell her this?

Or were they like Vladimir and Vera,

waiting in earnest for words that never came,

or came much later than expected

because they thought time would pause for them?

Like Edgar in his longing for the pigeon post.

Passing hours alongside the Green Fairy.

Desirous for light words to join with his darkness.

Do I ache to know

like Emily ached during a pandemic

as the core of her being was permeated by silence

that left tally marks on her soul?

Or do I ache as John and Yoko

ached for bed peace -

seeking solace from a body

other than my own?

No, I’m more like an Abigail Adams missing her John.

Noticing the colors

because it’s hard to be in the blue.

Left on read.

And I think her words would echo mine

as I draw this picture

of the contents of my heart.

“Honey, when I feel you withdraw from me,

what do you want me to do?”

To express this is a start.

The Red Queen in her crown. YA & adult poetry. Love & relationships. I preserve moments in the glistening amber of language. #WhirlingIntoFlame now available.