Jessica J. Johnston
i caught the sun today.
the sputtering car,
as it bumped along
a road long since worn out,
shook me like some
pirate ship ready to desert us.
unfazed, we drove.
the cold month dangled on the
landscape that watched us
from behind glittering car windows,
as they withheld frostbitten gasps
that beat our broken ships
i remembered loving you. i saw
your eyes the way
you used to look at me.
energy. there is so much here inside of me.
waiting to be discovered, i cried.
my emotions, liquified,
spilled from my eyes and in fear
of you seeing i looked
to the familiar windows cold glass,
and out. to somewhere far away,
where no one but me could touch.
a place of hidden light
and forgotten heartbreak
and the most beautiful words
in the world.
i saw wonderful things in my world-
and for a moment,
i failed to see how things
from a distance,
this cloud of darkness
surrounds my reality world.
it hovers and tears and chokes
the lungs of society.
(i speak of darkness, though i crave the light.)
a fulsome love, i was.
a hiatus, i became.
the sun, a gleaming bright ball of fire,
caught my eye from above.
the window was silent against my fingertips,
and it felt as cold as the snow
that took rest upon it during the
the sun’s beauty, captured in
my palm, could’ve lived
for years only for me.
instead, i let it go,
and continued to wait for
the amber of my life to surface again
when i could return to my past innocence.
When I was deep in poverty you taught me how to give. — Bob Dylan, Wedding Song