Goldilocks

With locks of gold she whistles lingering notes

The streaming river, a ribbon of living turquoise

Boldly flowing amid the forest green

Misguided as she stumbles upon

The hut crouched in the shadows like a sleeping bear

Aging walls, furry with moss

That sparkled silvery with dew in the morning light

Allowing streams of sunlight to crisscross the hut

Like a tic-tac-toe board

Illuminating the darkened room

The elongated oak with raw bark at the edges hosted,

A bouquet of silky pink petals and white chrysanthemums

Sunlight shines through the oval window, lying on the tiled floor

The breeze flutters around, caressing everything it touches

Wisps of white clouds stand unmoving

The girl with the golden strands, soft and lush yet tightly curled

Hair flowing around her face, and a slight smile curved her lips

Innocent rummages on a Monday morning when

The stillness is broken

As she hastily flees the hut

Mind weary, eyes closed

She bolts through the rusty leaves

Echoes of a grizzly bear

Reverberating through her mind