Skye Bennett
Traipsing through the traffic of twigs,
Daylight dripping down between leaves.
Charming chirps alongside busy buzzing
Surrounds me with a sort of comfort, but
A lingering sense of dread
Persists.
Salacious sunlight casts its false glow.
I sense his tippler scent before he attacks,
Stalking around the corner with a smirk.
Does he truly believe I don’t perceive his…
Wicked intentions within?
“Your coat is so bright and beautiful, baby
Were you hoping to catch my attention?”
The wolf whistles, as if his words were benign.
But my coat? Its ocher hue wasn’t intended
For your thrill.
I merely ignore him at first.
Offer him a taste of silence,
Knowing nothing will differ
If I give him a reaction,
Or if I refuse.
He lunges at me, teeth intent upon
Breaking the skin of my throat
And I remain frozen in fear.
Can I stop the inevitable?
Is my role only to become
His prey?
Somehow, I dodge the onslaught of fangs,
Narrowly missing my demise by a fraction,
Surprising the hunter with my sudden movement
I run
And I run
And I run
Until my legs freeze up once more
Along with my misled mind.
Huntsmen are all around me, us
What else are we meant to do?
Pretend they aren’t there, lurking amongst shadows?
Waiting to devour us when we least expect?
Thus, snow white morphs to scarlet,
And pure little rabbit becomes fox,
Sly in the face of howling predators.
It’s the only way we can escape…
The harsh realities of the “forest”