Paper Wings

I finished Sula the day after he died.

I wonder what discussion we would have had

about the ending that doesn’t quite end.

I wonder if he would have called on me and

asked my opinion on the overall message.

Now there are flowers outside his classroom,

and most of his belongings are gone.

I used to like how he kept the lights off,

but now it feels wrong.

Everyone keeps saying “Unfortunately, life goes on,”

but it’s moving faster than I can grasp.

I carry the book in my bag every day.

Its green cover is bent from being passed down over the years,

and there won’t be a test over what we’ve read,

but I can’t seem to leave it on my table.

Sula was scared of constancy, but I’m gripping

onto the aging pages that will always stay.

There will be no more fighting over seats,

no more lectures bordering on rambles.

A new teacher will come and strip his walls

and we’ll resume everyday learning,

but that little green book will never fully close.

I don’t want it to end.

-A.J