What I saw could not be expressed in words. There was such an inhuman, unimaginable misery, such a terrible disaster, that it began to seem almost abstract, it would not fit within the bounds of consciousness. I fell ill. For an entire year I could not write.My poem focusing on the Holodomor was published a few years ago by Apropos Literary Journal but the link is non-functional. Here it is below with a photo of the heart wrenching sculpture marking the tragedy in Kyiv.
Blue sky over a field of grain.
And in the square a little girl
in braided hair stands alone
in grief with hollow, sightless eyes.
Deep thoughts have been taken away
by her deep pain.
Deep calls to deepand sorrow to sorrow. I would give
her hope but all I have are my tears
falling into Lybid’s stream
while hers fill the wide Dnipro.