Into the Blue
A poem by Julia R. DeStefano
Into the Blue
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.
© Julia R. DeStefano
