a bit about Koschej’s hare
maybe the hare willingly broke its jaw to fit a death down its throat.
maybe it could bare to mutilate its paws and ruin its brown coat.
maybe just to snare a tiny taste of awe—something more than chaff and groats.
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Maybe it is just a hare. Either way, I enjoyed a little excursion into myth today. That simple rhyme in the middle hangs the poem together.