She shows you.
Purple crocuses.
And bluebells.
In neat rows.
And the green shoots.
Of daffodils.
Then she leads you.
Past the porch.
Where her husband was shot.
Through a wooden gate.
Onto the plot of land.
Where she buried him.
“Look how many.
Tulips are coming out!”
She points towards the spot.
Now a neat flowerbed again.
“It used to be.
So lovely here.
We’ll soon have flowers again.
All round the house.”
She has finally been able.
To install a headstone.
For her husband’s grave.
After two years.
When ‘orcs’ soldiers killed.
Her husband.
She had to wrap him.
In a blanket.
And bury him.
At the back of their garden.
She then fled Bucha.
With her daughter.
It was March 2022.
The ‘orcs’ had occupied.
The small town.
Just outside Kyiv.
And taken over.
The pensioners’ home.
Soldiers drove a tank.
Into their yard.
And used the house opposite.
As their headquarters.
While Bucha had endured.
The horrors.
Two years on.
She has finally installed.
A marble headstone on her husband’s.
Grave with his photograph.
After Bucha was liberated.
She was able to have.
Him reburied properly.
At the local cemetery.
The couple’s home.
Destroyed in the fighting.
Is slowly.
Being rebuilt.
She has been planting.
Bright coloured flowers.
In the yard.
Of their home.
But when the house is finished.
She will live there alone.
She is anxious to move back.
Into her new home.
Just a few steps.
From Yablunska Street.
Her new home is.
Still just a shell.
The builders have promised.
To finish it by summer.
But she hasn’t seen.
Them for days.
Homeless for two years.
On top of her bereavement.
She is anxious to move in.
“I’m trying to cope.”
“But my blood pressure is high.
Which it never was.
Before the war.”
Showing you around the building site.
“I’m getting heart scans.
Signs of problems.
It’s all from the stress.
From the memories.”
In 2022.
You saw the burned-out wreck.
Of her old home not long after.
The ‘orcs’ had pulled out.
The yard was still heaped.
With alcohol bottles.
And wrappers from their.
Military ration packs.
It was the rubbish.
Of men who had shot.
Her husband.
In the head.
When he surfaced.
For a moment.
From the cellar where.
The couple were hiding.
She found her husband’s body.
Later that night.
Face down.
On their porch.
The investigation is still open.
One of hundreds of.
Suspected war crimes.
Cases in Bucha.
She was recently.
Called in by police.
Who had found.
New CCTV footage.
And hoped she might.
Help identify.
The soldiers.
On film.
“Maybe they can be.
Charged in absentia.
I know ‘Mordor’ will never.
Hand them over.”
She says, realistic about.
The chances of anyone.
Being held to account.
For the killing.
“Personally, I’d like.
To grab them.
By the throat.
And demand to know.”
“Why they had to.
Come here,” she says.
Suddenly animated.
“They are scumbags.”
Across town.
She is worried too.
Especially by the recent increase.
In ‘orcs’ missile strikes.
She keeps visiting her house.
To check on its progress and.
To be closer to her memories.
From before the occupation.
She feeds a cat.
The stray cat.
Her husband once loved.
To photograph.
Gardening distracts her.
When everything gets too much.
“There’s such ruin.
All over Ukraine!”
“They’re rebuilding here in Bucha.
And that’s such joy.
But there’s no peace.
No stability.”
She shows you.
Purple crocuses.
And bluebells.
In neat rows.
And the green shoots.
Of daffodils.
Then she leads you.
Past the porch.
Where her husband was shot.
Through a wooden gate.
Onto the plot of land.
Where she buried him.
“Look how many.
Tulips are coming out!”
She points towards the spot.
Now a neat flowerbed again.
“It used to be.
So lovely here.
We’ll soon have flowers again.
All round the house.”
She has finally been able.
To install a headstone.
For her husband’s grave.
After two years.
*Because I read “Ukraine war: Bucha’s wounds still raw two years on” by Sarah Rainsford on 7 Apr 2024, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Ludmila and Valeriy.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukraine war: Bucha’s wounds still raw two years on (bbc.com)
