Petit Rouge
Little Red
Where is the wolf?
Le loup
As you stand among fallen leaves
Do you hear his breath
Between naked branches
And wonder
What it will be like
To feel the moment his teeth
Break your skin at the nape?
La morsure
Crimson drops fall to the ground.
Dragon Hope
This broken girl holds onto Hope
Pocked skin, cracked teeth
She traces the word
Inked on her wrist
Faith is an insidious beast
Inciting dreams
Masking reality
With its illusory scales
It is foolish to let it
Take you with its claws
And burn you with its breath
It will leave nothing of you
But a pile of ash
Unless you slay it
About the Author
Sandra Hosking is a poet, playwright, and photographer in the Pacific Northwest. Her plays, poetry, and photography have appeared in Red Ogre Review, Joey, 3 Elements Review, West Texas Review, The Uncommon Grackle, Cirque Literary Journal, Edify Fiction and the book Along Southern Roads. Hosking holds MFAs in theatre and creative writing.