Papa
by Olivia Sheftall
His breath paled away,
smudged out until his body went still.
The world kept spinning.
I drove home,
wondered why so many people were on the road.
I wanted to roar at them.
Wherever they were going didn’t matter anymore.
I couldn’t help but think how insensitive Earth was,
didn’t the Sun know to lower its yellow noise?
That funerals were a place for black silence?
When Heaven’s Gate opened before him,
the first thing he did
was scoop up the holy water
and sprinkle it in our eyes:
water had never felt so pure until that day.
It streamed down sidewalks and cheeks,
holding on with fingers and love alike.
I wish grief was simple.
I want to give a name to the tight stretch of my heart.
I want to bandage my soul,
wait a few weeks and find it healed.
I want to know how deep the water is,
brace my lungs for impact,
know if I’d ever swim back up.
I want the English language to have words
heavier than sadness.
But the wanting and wishing
only makes the days go by slower.
And if I were him, I’d be so tired
my body and soul would shake.
I’d miss my wife.
I’d want to escape every scrap of bruised skin.
I’d be ready.
So, I don’t curse the people for living,
or the rain for clearing,
or the sun for rising,
I just wake up.
About the Writer...
Olivia Sheftall is a sophomore at Douglas Anderson School of the Arts. She is a passionate writer of all genres, but has a personal preference for screenwriting. Sheftall has been in numerous spoken word performances, including LaVilla Showcase 2022 and 2023, Coffee House 2023, the Climate Crisis Poetry Contest at Jacksonville University, and many more.
About the Artist...
Zoë Wagner is a sophomore at Savannah Arts Academy, where she majors in visual arts, an opportunity she's very grateful for. Her favorite medium to use is acrylic paint, but she is inspired by the master oil painters of history and is starting to experiment with it as well. She hopes to continue creating art and developing her skills.