Baba Yaga Luxury Wooden Wick Soy Wax Candle
"My happy place, yes," I murmured. "I will."
The high hedge of bones and thorns is prowled about by snakes, owls, hedgehogs, cats,
familiars and protectors out of the old tales.
Soon I'll go down and tidy away
those ragged red and white ribbons flying from it so gaily, the ones the ravens sport with.
But the breeze is too lovely right now.
I sit on the high veranda, sipping wine,
adrift on the light dappling the leaves below.
Behind me in the house, peace and order,
rest and useful work, time and space,
Room to breathe, light, silence.
what I will.
The house shifts a bit on its legs;
cauldrons and knives settle back in their accustomed places.
On the fencepost far below, his skull bleaches;
crows picking it clean, clean, finally all clean.
I think idly about what I shall build of his bones.
I may need more
(taken from ‘Baba Yaga’s Garden’, Janet Croft)