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A Raven’s Time
War Poem from Kyiv
Quiet streets of Kyiv, peaceful just after dawn
This brave city refuses to be anyone’s pawn.
Tree branches rustle and a Raven falls with a thump
Dead on the ground or did it just miss a jump?
Raven lays still seemingly dead, no one to mourn
Later I pass, it stands by a tree, stares with scorn.
At passers-by whose lives are still full ahead?
Raven seems to know soon it will be dead.
A wild beast clings to life but its instinct shows its fate
Ah, life is so sweet to grasp and be grateful, it’s not too late.
Later I walk the beast I adore, he’s a killer for sure
But l love him not less, he is a beast to the core.
We pass by the Raven huddled in a corner, now bitten
By my own beast so that this poem could be written.
First there is anger, then mercy and deep thought
Raven’s misery is over, his death is not for naught.
For it got me to thinking about an annoying fly
Circling my head, lives for a day, when will it die?
Later I would ponder about our soldiers all at the front
I wonder if it was mercy killing that Muscovite grunt?
What lives do they lead where they have no value true
Tossed away like garbage into Moscow’s fray, death on cue.
Strange what enters the head when you live in war
The Raven who captivated is now Nevermore.
