Little Red

The darkened bark of the trees reflected winter sparkles

The sky was a calm grey

Her piercing blue eyes had an intriguing bite

The animal within howled

Tiny flakes sprinkled her crimson cheeks

The girl was shy

Blessed with the ignorance of adolescence

She wanted to be, to run, and to be wild

A beast that could not be tamed

She bore a thick crimson cloak

Soaked with the scents of damp winter pine

The hood darkened her crisp eyes and auburn locks

Her boots crisped the delicate sheet of snow

As she put one tiny foot in front of the other

The basket she carried was full of wine and honey breads

Every morning, every day, every dawn

The cold walk left her nose cold and little fingers numb

Madame was expecting her morning meal

Her breath flustered into smokey froth before her

Feet and toes so tightly bound in wool froze, bitten by cold

She would never be used to this

The woods bent and howled from swirly winds of ice

From the corner of her eye she twisted her little cloak

Her eyes biting back at a pair of the same intriguing blues

The fur was a pattern of greys and whites

Standing there they met each other girl and beast

She did not move, for her heart stopped

Yet fear had not struck, and why should it have?

It was beautiful, dangerous and wild

Yet more importantly it was free

For it didn't belong to a madame, or even the wood

It only belonged to itself

And she longed for that

They stood, long they stood

Until the beast raised its head toward the sky

One howl broke the silence between

The beast ran, ran far into the wood

There she continued down the path

Finding herself in madam's house

She eased to the dark quarters

Madam layed in bed

Her grey hair perfectly tucked under a floral bonnet

My, little red said

My, Madam what pretty bonnet you have

Oh yes, madam responded

Eyes cruel, she demanding breakfast

My Madam, I have some fresh breads and wines for you

Yes, she responded

Little Red turned her back to pour the wine

Her hand slid into her cloak reaching a small bottle

She pulled it out and poured it into the wine

Turning around with the glass

Innocently smiling, but eyes burning

Madam drank, sipped, she swallowed

It was not long after her eyes became heavy

Here chest swallowed with each breath

She closed the bottle of wine

Tucked it away in the basket

Neatly putting it by her nightstand

As if it were never touched

And the madam lay neatly

Little red turned, walked

Walked far away from Madam

She ran, ran far into the woods

She was free to be, free and wild

She was her own wolf

She was the wolf