“We need to stop.
The attacks,” he says.
“We need to close.
The sky over Ukraine.”
Until that happens.
Ukraine’s entire grid will be in jeopardy.
Especially substations, which have borne.
The brunt of ‘Mordor’’s wrath.
With a dusting of fresh winter snow.
Settling around them.
And the crackle of electricity loud.
In the wires over their heads.
He runs his gloved fingers.
Over golf ball-sized holes.
In the crippled hulk.
Of a huge transformer.
“Here, and here, and here,” he says.
As he shows where shrapnel.
From an ‘orcs’ missile punctured.
The transformer’s thick sides.
Sharp metal fragments.
Of the missile lie.
On the ground.
Nearby.
Along the way.
As big as bungalows.
Other transformers are disappearing behind.
Protective cocoons of concrete and sandbags.
Above them loom.
The high, forbidding Soviet-era walls.
Of the power plant’s.
Vast turbine hall.
Panes of glass for half a mile.
Shattered by explosions.
From the 12 missiles that have landed.
Here since mid-October.
Engineers and technicians.
Run the network racing to.
Repair the damage and keep electricity.
Flowing across the country.
“We need to stop.
The attacks,” he says.
“We need to close.
The sky over Ukraine.”
Until that happens.
Ukraine’s entire grid will be in jeopardy.
Especially substations, which have borne.
The brunt of ‘Mordor’’s wrath.
“Every time.
The equipment is damaged.
It gets us all right.
Here in our soul.”
He says, tapping his chest.
Some of these huge.
Rust-stained machines are.
Older than the men who run them.
But for him, the plant’s manager.
They’re his babies.
“It’s our life.
Our second family.”
He sent his first family.
That means his wife and teenage son.
To Europe early.
In the war.
A playful golden retriever.
Their dog, now accompanies.
Him to work.
Every day.
The transformer.
130 tonnes of twisted metal.
Dangling wires.
And scorch marks.
Where cooling oil.
Leaked and caught fire.
Is not easy.
To replace.
“I know how much effort.
It takes to build this.
To install.
And launch it.”
He is a veteran.
Of 30 years in this industry.
“It’s not something.
You can buy in a store.”
“We need to stop.
The attacks,” he says.
“We need to close.
The sky over Ukraine.”
Until that happens.
Ukraine’s entire grid will be in jeopardy.
Especially substations, which have borne.
The brunt of ‘Mordor’’s wrath.
The same goes for.
The turbines inside.
Monstrous, deafening.
Mechanical dinosaurs.
Churning and hissing away.
At the heart of the plant.
They’re hugely.
Impressive machines.
But there’s little time.
To admire them.
As the air raid siren sounds.
For the third time this morning.
In a well-practised drill.
Most of the plant’s staff.
Head for the bunkers.
The atmosphere is relaxed.
Such interruptions are commonplace.
Until word starts to.
Spread of a fresh wave.
Of ‘orcs’ attacks on the power grid.
“We need to stop.
The attacks,” he says.
“We need to close.
The sky over Ukraine.”
Until that happens.
Ukraine’s entire grid will be in jeopardy.
Especially substations, which have borne.
The brunt of ‘Mordor’’s wrath.
A sister plant in the west has been hit.
A picture circulates of fire raging.
In a turbine hall.
Much like the one they were in just now.
Then, even through.
The thick concrete walls.
Of their underground retreat.
They hear a distant explosion.
There’s tension in the room.
As the men and women check their phones.
A crowded apartment block.
Not far away, has been hit.
The scene is chaotic.
And desperate.
A missile has torn a gaping hole.
In the middle of the nine-storey building.
Thick smoke, pierced by flashlights.
Rises from a pile of rubble.
Dozens of rescue workers and volunteers.
Are working frantically to find survivors.
The death toll, which mounts.
Inexorably over the coming days.
Is one of the highest of the war so far.
Mothers, fathers, children. Whole families.
At the power station.
The following morning.
The mood is bleak.
Everyone believes the missile was aimed at them.
“We need to stop.
The attacks,” he says.
“We need to close.
The sky over Ukraine.”
Until that happens.
Ukraine’s entire grid will be in jeopardy.
Especially substations, which have borne.
The brunt of ‘Mordor’’s wrath.
*Because I read “Ukraine grid attacks: Engineers race to restore electricity supplies” by Paul Adams on 3 Feb 2023, on the BBC News, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, including a story of Michael.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukraine grid attacks: Engineers race to restore electricity supplies – BBC News
**My friend shows you this poem with other my poems together also on the Ukrainian website for their children and others!
Please join them!
