War Crimes
My daughter Natalie would be in school today
and her private math tutor would be visiting at night
and then I would be reading her a night time story
of a Viking girl who braved the oceans.
But at this hour Natalie isn't feeling good,
has slight fever from miles of walking to the Polish border
and the long hours of futile wait in the car before
we abandoned it on the roadside. She misses her stuff puppy
we left behind, too disheartened to fathom we may never
return.
War refugees in an instant, and a life of discontinuity worth escaping
the Russian slavery. I've stopped shouting and am not angry anymore,
just the pain, and the void.
Copyright © Kaveh Afrasiabi | Year Posted 2022
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