little red went riding

and found the woods too cold

now she’s nestled next to me

doing what she’s told

This entry was posted on Friday, September 14th, 2018 at 7:35 pm and is filed under Captured - The Spoken Word, Crimson Writ, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.