The snow is falling heavily
The landscape pretty bleak
No children building snowmen
No birdsong so to speak
Remains of peoples houses
A wreckage of a tank
An apartment block abandoned
Shattered windows staring blank
A street that once was thriving
With shops and busy folk
Now eerily disfigured
But still smouldering with smoke
The work of evil daring
Now a snowscape lost in fear
No life no motivation
Were there really people here?
The sound of distant gunfire
An explosion in the sky
But nobody left to question
Or to ask the reason why
On the snowy ground
A robin dares to forage for his food
His breast of red where blood was shed
In a senseless war so crude
The snow now hiding conflict
As a silence strives to reign
This is Christmas Day 2022
In a small town in Ukraine.
By David Whitney
Torrevieja ©2022
David, your poems are always a pleasure to read, but your latest ‘No Birdsong So To Speak’ is the most insightful and profound take on the Ukrainian tragedy I’ve come across. The sideways view of a poet is often the most revealing. Thank you.
Brian, Valencia