Little Red Riding Hood Grows Up

Sometimes she feels the wolves behind her eyes,
The stealthy ease

Of their shadows and their breath. Everything's dark,
Even the work

Of love. When you've been eaten and released,
That is the cost.

Like a statue in the thick of what's grown wild,
She feels the old

Cry of fear along her bones. Who can
Forget what's in

The heart? The past is always merciless,
The same red dress,

The same door swinging open. A wolf's disguise
Reveals the ease

With which a single innocence can die.
Eternity

Is the moment before what is devoured,
Or what is shared.

Sometimes the birds can settle on her hair.
She doesn't scare.

Copyright © 2003 Kim Bridgford All rights reserved
from Undone
David Roberts Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission