She walked in the woods

With a basket in hand,

For grandmother.

The first time she went

Into the trees,

She didn't know

How dangerous

It was.

And so, the fury

Of the wolf

As it attacked

Still haunted her.

And so, the second time,

She came prepared.

With axe in hand

A dagger hidden

Among the apples

And another one

Inside her cloak.

Her mother wondered why.

"Why are you so afraid,"

She'd say,

"To go into a peaceful wood?"

She couldn't tell her

About the wolf.

She'd never see

Grandma again.

She would be banned

From where it happened

And so, she suffered

Quietly.

Grandma and her

Tried to talk about it.

But they always cried.

The woods were

An uncrossable barrier

A no-man's land

Easy to get lost in

With hungry wolves.

She'd plead with her Grandma

Every time they met

To move closer to her mother's house,

On the same side of the woods.

But Grandma was set in her ways,

And wouldn't even think of it.

She wouldn't move

From the log cabin.

Wouldn't live

In a townhouse.

Everyday, she wished

That she had never seen the wolf.

Never learned the ferocity

Of the predator.

She tried to live her life

Like she had before.

Without the knowledge of the wolf,

Without the daggers,

Heavy in her pocket.

But everywhere, there were reminders,

The scar, now a thin white line,

From where the wolf had bit her,

Her cloak, dyed red,

Reminded her of the blood,

The puddle of crimson

Around the wolf.

She would never forget that night.