Red did not go into the forest that day

Red did not go into the forest that day
She did not waltz or glance or whistle or slow or pluck or meander or wander or apprehend or arrive or question or 
Reach into the belly of the beast and pull grandmother out
Red did not go into the forest that day
Red was a little girl who was not supposed to enjoy the deep dank dark drear of the dewy dogwoods
She did
Until they told her not to
They told her with thundering fists and barbed compliments and sugar-spun vowels and a bubble blown around her thin frame
So then she didn't 
Red did not go into the forest that day because
She was busy shaping and plucking and purging and squeezing and applying and puckering and practicing and starving
And bleeding and screaming and then composing and gossiping and longing for the cover of the pines
So
Red did not go into the forest that day and
Grandmother 
Grandmother who had long ago given up on trying to pluck and squeeze and traded freedom for a house in the safety of the village
Grandmother who used to be a battle axe and a fireball and other phrases trapped women called her in secret awe
Grandmother who had grown gnarled and brittle and grey and beautiful
Grandmother left for a while
And Red fled into the forest on fleet frenzied feet to find her
The village erected statues of the little missing girl and in these statues her nails were painted
And her face was washed and she stared down docile
And fathers would tell their daughters to be like her and not go into the forest that day
And grandmothers
Locked away like raving china dolls
Would stare out their windows and weep