Baba Yaga

[Keith]

Phallic mother
I am the forest,
a death that rots beneath
my leaves
can swallow whole
each mind of man
or gently blow on bone.

Come sit inside to grind our paste,
a cloud across the moon,
see which sister shows her face,
on chicken legs the room will turn,
your path will twist if we conspire,
now ask of me a dream, a quest
shadows run if I desire.
You fail your test, I take your flesh
and breathe your Russian smell.

The willow wisps so soft
The wizard calls the storm
All creatures thump the ground.

A thousand swarm
are by my side
a Firebird burns behind my eyes,
grasping feathers, hands in flames
through these woods
I rise again.

[Achebe]

1) "a Firebird burns behind my eyes,
grasping feathers, hands in flames
through these woods
I rise again."

beautiful.

2) i googled 'russian willow' to see if it was found in that part of the world (hoping to correct you)...and wow: The Russian Federation has the world's largest area of natural willow stands http://www.fao.org/docrep/008/a0026e/a0026e03.htm
so i learnt something new.

3) breathe your Russian smell.....sounds better in my head with 'breathe your boyar smell'. Both for the alliteration and the greater political correctness...