Magnificent carpets of the living green
Shining in the sun, the news turned off,
Not a lot of fun.
The opaque city,  alone and lilac,
And the spruce green through it all,
And the river shines under the ice.
And the whole world alive with spite
Enlightened? No crackle sparks
Cracks in the roof, water seeps, 
flooding the basement, sewage
Contaminating the baby's food
With a mother in the bed.
But you know: don't tell me 
To sink into a mare's boot.
Instead fight, slide snow ice
slip away from all the impatient
Anger, fields empty of grass,
No sowing this season 
But bomb craters crawl into
Consciousness.
Forests, recently so dense,
Destroyed by fire. Hopes blown
To smithereens
And the coast, dear to me.
Cut off, by Russian artillery.