Baba
Yaga sleeps outside under a rough blanket
Of remnant shadows pinned together with thorns.
Her own dreams wandered off ages ago
Except for one, of a night filled with snow.
Through that snow, the memory of a cart
Quietly pushes its way.
Of remnant shadows pinned together with thorns.
Her own dreams wandered off ages ago
Except for one, of a night filled with snow.
Through that snow, the memory of a cart
Quietly pushes its way.
No comments:
Post a Comment