Past the fence of young yellowed bones
the children pelt her house with stones
three-headed snake, wicked she may be
with sharp and shiny iron teeth
a nose so tall it pokes the sun
if Baba’s out, you’d best run
She flies in the belly of her cauldron
bubbling, slick with blood that runs
swinging her pestle at all she can reach
her two sisters let out a cackle and screech
beware Baba, the rattle-boned hag
beware—or you may end up in her bag
The prompt for today was “Baba Yaga.”
