Weeks later my mind’s eye recaptures
the newspaper photograph
the smiling ruddy Ukrainian lad, gun slack
grin wide as if posing for a birthday portrait
he should be reading poetry, drinking coffee
flirting with a rosy faced girl whose big smile
lights his world. He should be tending lambs,
throwing snowballs, building life, laughing,
dancing, kicking a football
kicking a football for a goal
Instead, he smiles, holds an old gun for a photograph.
What will become of you, dear boy, what will become of you?
Sascha Darlington 2/2022
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What a poignant and sobering truth 💙
Thank you, Alethea. I can’t get the picture out of my head because of how wrong it seemed for him to be in it.
Yes, that deep sense of life already being taken away by war, well said.
Lovely poem.
Gwen.
Many thanks, Gwen. ❤