Poetry by Danielle Coffyn

      Tim Vrtiska CC




Every Afternoon, I Call You At Work

Not to relay anything timely or important, but to hear the tired 
timbre of your voice turn yellow. We are both trying to save 
the world. To combat cynicism & despair. Most days, we darken 
by noon, overmine our weary hearts as deep cobalt threatens 
to pollute hopeful veins. You answer on the first ring. I tell you 
about the groundhog in our yard (I’m overwhelmed) or how 
the sun is too hot (I’m exhausted) or what I think we should make 
for dinner (I love you). I listen as your colors change & feel mine 
shift too—blue to blond, resigned to resistant, tired to energized. 
Fueled by the thread tethering your love to mine.

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Everything Happens For A Reason

Forgive me. I am uncomfortable with how little in life 
makes sense. You tell me an asteroid shattered your world. 
My mind cannot accept purposeless pain. We are strange 
creatures. Hopeful. Defiant in the face of despair. 
But the truth is I am afraid. I do not know how to sit 
in a room where grief wears a crown. I love you. 
I cannot bear to see you hurting. I want to help. 
I searched our language but found no words to assuage 
your suffering. So I stop talking except to say 
I’m here & I’m listening.

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Danielle Coffyn (she/her) is the author of If Adam Picked the Apple (North Meridian Press, 2025). Her work has appeared in The North Meridian Review, Kottke.org, and The Daily Good. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize. You can find her writing on Substack (The Understory) and Instagram (@daniellecoffyn). She currently resides in St. Louis, Missouri with her son and pup. 
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