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Little Red

Your red hood on high, 

Riding fast through the countryside– 


My little red hood; 

Blood rose, cherry pit, 

Sangiovese, open-wound. 


Bicycle basket stuffed with muffins

And other little 

Whats-its, 

What-nots, 

And What-evers. 


Your wheels dash the earth about, 

Zipping through grasses, 

Whipping your feet as you pass. 


I watch you from a distance. 


Cloaked in threads of ardent red; 

The garden is your bed. 

Or it will be 

Soon enough. 


I prowl in bushes, moving slowly, 

Breathing hushes– 

Whispers to my all-revealing howl. 


You are a tender little devil 

And my heart will never settle 

On just which way I endeavour 

To devour you – whole? 


A trail left behind of 

Bike tracks and bread crumbs. 

The sun falls to sleep between the mountains,


And I follow you home.

Date submitted: 8 October 2023

Date accepted: 14 November 2023

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