WAKA is 'the music of the Primes'.

The kindergarten was on fire.

When she drove down.

A dirt road into.

The hamlet of Yurchenkove.

 

North-east of Kharkiv city.

And close enough to.

The ‘orcs’ border.

To feel very dangerous.

 

She is a psychologist.

She has spent a year.

Going into.

Front-line villages.

 

Threatened by ‘orcs’.

To evacuate civilians.

No children were.

In the kindergarten.

 

 

Whatever started it.

No-one in the deserted.

Desolate village tried to.

Put the fire out.

 

As it licked and crackled.

Through the kindergarten’s.

Wooden walls.

And tin roof.

 

 

Yurchenkove.

Like all the border villages.

Had only a few.

Elderly or infirm civilians.

 

The kindergarten.

Must have been.

Abandoned.

Months ago.

 

Grass was advancing.

Across the slides.

And toys in.

The overgrown front garden.

 

 

Whatever started it.

No-one in the deserted.

Desolate village tried to.

Put the fire out.

 

As it licked and crackled.

Through the kindergarten’s.

Wooden walls.

And tin roof.

 

 

A man on a motorbike.

Loaded with a bedroll.

And few possessions.

Who looked as if.

 

He was leaving too.

Said he didn’t know.

How the fire was caused.

But it wasn’t a shell.

 

 

Whatever started it.

No-one in the deserted.

Desolate village tried to.

Put the fire out.

 

As it licked and crackled.

Through the kindergarten’s.

Wooden walls.

And tin roof.

 

 

Luckily no children.

Were inside.

This kindergarten.

When it was destroyed.

 

 

*Because I read “Jeremy Bowen: Ukraine faces its worst crisis since the war began” by Jeremy Bowen on 28 May 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, including a story of Vika.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine war: Kharkiv targeted as Russia grows in strength (bbc.com)