Shea Campanella

This picture of us catches me 
In a way I haven’t looked 
For so long. 
Eyes bright 
And smile in-motion. 
Laughing and dropping 
The weight my grin has carried
For longer than I’ve known.

So catch me off guard 
Because my shield falls to my side at the sight of you. 
I remove my helmet
To revel in our shared meals.
And I sleep with my back to you
Since those scars have faded
Over days and nights
Learning to rest in your presence.

Catch me with a splash of iridescence
From the fountain of youth.
Let us sit sparkling, poolside.
Let our influences wash away
The ache of times before now.
Let us be younger than we have before
And grow older than we’d ever hoped.

Shea Campanella hails from the woods of Fair Haven. She spent a childhood leaving footprints in tree sap, chasing musical frogs, and dreaming up myriad characters lurking beyond each root-riddled bend. That may be an overly fantastical way to say “she grew up in a New Jersey suburb,” but it sets the scene for her relentlessly whimsical outlook on life. Shea writes with equal grandeur about the agonies of interpersonal betrayal and the delights of a well-buttered piece of bread.