the wind moans
through snow-laden branches
shadows on their cheeks
white-haired Ukrainians peer
behind shelter windows
in the cold snap
a neon-lit billboard
above Kursk's mall:
men in work suits hold AKs
framed against tricolors
FYI: Kursk is a city in southwestern Russia near the Ukrainian border. For more about poems on Russia's invasion of Ukraine, see "Special Feature: Selected Poems for Reflections on the Fourth Anniversary of Russia's Invasion of Ukraine"
And my tanka below could be read as its sequel:
the butcher
throwing more meat
into his grinder
the wall-mounted TV blasts
war after war ...
Ribbons, 20:1, Winter 2024
Added:
Journey, Not Here and Now
Donbas teen's gaze
at a row of church spires ...
sunrise tinged gray
Behind him, the roofline sinks lower with each step, until only the cross atop the church shows above the trees. Ahead, the road bends where he cannot see.
what ifs …
beneath shadowed skies
the border pass
FYI: The vast majority of the Ukrainian region, the Donbas, is now occupied by Russia
