Little Red
by Billie Bernard
In college there was a path in the woods called The Rape Trail.
Most nights I’d deny escorts and walk it alone to my dorm.
I remember Orion overhead, proving something important;
the feral smell of pine needles; Amherst air; and
humming “Blackbird” low enough to listen
for the crunching of branches behind me.
Billie Bernard is a reader and soon to be creative nonfiction editor of Front Porch, an online literary journal: http://www.frontporchjournal.com