dear margaret

May 8, 2020 Jamey Alea 0 Comments

This Twin Peaks inspired poem was originally published at Pink Plastic House as the featured poem for the week of April 29th, 2020.

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tiny, frightened minds say,
there’s a sort of evil out there, something very strange in these old woods
and they can’t discern between all the things
they don’t understand

their fear makes sense to us
because there is fear represented among us
but we didn’t understand loneliness
until we experienced it through
her
she put words around the cold rushing wind and the whistle of the rustling trees

she was as lonely as we were
and she listened to the parts of silence that other people filled up with their fear

our fear is drawn back, always, to the source of all fear
through the douglas firs and the sycamore trees
there is a place,
a place like us:
a single piece, a single whole
an unpleasant place—even for us—
where the cold wind always rushes;
an impossible place for tiny, frightened minds

but there is something else,
something that she might call love
and it’s drawn back, always, to her

she is not like us
she consists of so many little
pieces, all different, and the air around her
always seems warm and still

the forest doesn’t grow, it creeps
spreads its dark tendrils only when you’re not looking
never evolves, only ever expands
in size

the forest cannot change what it is, any more than we can

but then there is her, changing all the time
growing not just in size but in essence
getting… older
more content in her loneliness
more comfortable to hide in her arms from the rushing wind
less and less like fear and more like… her

and we listened to the parts of silence that live in between her shallow breaths
and the way she changes,
changed, impossibly,
something about us

and we knew love