Blue shadows of birds
skim over Mariupol
– speed west to the sun
Wild easterly winds
buckle and twist willow trees
– branches fall to ground
I hear frail birdsong
embracing a precious dawn
– pearls cast before swine
I hear God is change
all things must melt away – bones
– burn pale as newborns

A powerful piece, a joy to read, Nikita. I never imagined that the war would go the way it has, eith new horrors every day. Is there hope for humanity? Are we regressing to ignorant savagery? Sorry, me being me. I hope you are coping okay.
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Thanks Steve, This war is a nightmare I never thought could happen. It has turned all the world upside down. And I think the chances of escalation are high. I’m trying to adjust to another ‘new normal’ but finding it difficult and not writing very much. However, this poem came out in a surge and I’m so pleased you liked it. Hope all’s well with you.
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