Buk Near Donetsk - Poem by Leo Yankevich
Beside the fields of rye and flax
there is a road that leads to birches,
pocked with dark puddles and tank tracks,
above which no white dove perches.
Green men pray to another Christ,
a Fulcrum falling overhead,
a saviour or a poltergeist,
the sun behind it, fierce and red.
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The Road Not Taken
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