For a 33-year-old.
Who was taking.
Her six-year-old daughter.
To school for the first time.
The day was marred by fear.
“Her hands were shaking.
Our apartment started.
To stink of smoke.”
“But we still need to go to school, right?
We are ‘elves’.”
She said she told her daughter.
That morning.
For schoolchildren.
Across the capital.
Monday’s bombardment.
Coincided with.
The first day.
Of the school year.
A day of celebration.
In Ukraine.
For a 33-year-old.
Who was taking.
Her six-year-old daughter.
To school for the first time.
The day was marred by fear.
“Her hands were shaking.
Our apartment started.
To stink of smoke.”
“But we still need to go to school, right?
We are ‘elves’.”
She said she told her daughter.
That morning.
*Because I read “Russian missiles target Kyiv on first day of school year” by Hafsa Khalil & Zhanna Bezpiatchuk on 2 Sep 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 Yevheniia.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Ukraine war: Russian missiles target Kyiv on first day of school (bbc.com)
