Hannah Penttila - The Quiet Safety of the Cage (Poetry)

The Quiet Safety of the Cage

A flag hangs in the window, a makeshift blind
Obscuring the sun. The light

Forces her long fingers through anyway,
Blinding. The garden of water bottles and mugs

Spreads its infestation
Across any flat surface.

Pressed against the wall is
Woman, small, cocooned in blue fleece.

Hiding from the world. Hiding
From having to hide.

TV dinners, like a minefield. Ward off any
Unwanted guests.

They still seep through. Pressing on
Her temple. Dragging her

From sleep. Whispered promises
To never give her peace.

Bones and All

It must be fall.
My favorite time. The flaming leaves.
Naked trees. I walk free. Branches exposed like bones.
Hide and seek. My only job. I have always sought.
Nursery rhymes. Children’s rumors. One day you’ll all be found.
What else is there to tell?

A brand new day. A brand new game. My list I’ll never tell.
You know it’s fall.
The veil is thin. How many can be found?
A short visit. A minor chat. Then the hider leaves.
Their loved ones and old lives sought.
Forgotten over the years. All that’s left is graves and bones.

People’s most permanent part. Bones.
Worry not. Time will tell.
To set them free was never a challenge I sought.
Even as they all fall.
No one ever leaves.
I hope there’s meaning. A comfort found.

No longer earthbound. Immortal freedom found.
I wish I were bones.
Or the fallen leaves.
They all fear me. I can tell.
No one wants to fall.
It’s to live that’s always sought.

I have to offer some knowledge never sought.
Day after day. Millions of years. What is it I have found?
To live is to fall.
To pour out of your skin and leave your bones.
It’s ok to be scared. I won’t tell.
I’ll stay here. I am the one who never leaves.

It’s ok. I do as I must. Everyone leaves.
There are so many left to be sought.
If we meet again please do tell
What was it that you found?
I’ll stay here. Company of bones.
I will never fall.

You’ve been found.
I’m jealous of your prison of bones.
At least one day you can be free. To be alive is to fall.

An Elegy for the Old Me

For so long I had you.
Always I had you.
Until I didn’t,
And you were gone.
At first I didn’t notice.
You slipped away.
So subtly, so quietly.
Not at all your usual flair.
All the words emptied out.
And my slowly your body
Became a ballpark peanut shell
That I didn’t know how to fill.

I miss you.
I miss the way your laugh echoed through the room,
Loud enough to startle a passerby.
The way silence never scared you,
But you secretly hoped that monsters hid in the dark,
So you whispered goodnight to them,
And To each and every brown bear, rabbit, and lion
That perched at the end of your pink garden bed.
I miss the giddiness of play time.
Coloring on the walls.
Wet socks and magic.
The way every song
Somehow became a soundtrack
To every moment of your life.

To say you are truly well and gone,
Buried where no one can find,
Would be a lie.
I still hear you in the music.
I catch glimpses of you in the mirror.
I write down my happy memories of you,
And the things that you loved.
The things you still love.
Because you didn’t burn to ash.
You were a caterpillar.
You were liquified for survival.
You’ve transformed.