In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
He had softly and suddenly vanished away—
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.
Not long ago.
She, now 26, worked.
As a nightclub administrator.
In Prague.
“It felt like everything.
Was ahead of me.
– and there was.
Plenty of time.”
Then, she realised.
If she didn’t protect.
Her future, she would.
Remain stuck in the past.
“It’s a Snark!” was the sound that first came to their ears,
And seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
Then the ominous words “It’s a Boo—”
In December 2024.
She returned to Ukraine.
Joined the army.
And became a pilot.
“I look at the ‘before’ photo.
And see myself calmer.
More naive.
Everything became different.”
“I became different.
My ‘past’ life was filled with.
A constant chase:”
A constant chase:”
“To make it in time.
To achieve.
To build, to earn.
To prove.”
“Now, everything is simpler:
What matters is that.
My brothers-in-arms are.
Alive after enemy strikes.”
Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A weary and wandering sigh
That sounded like “-jum!” but the others declare
It was only a breeze that went by.
The difficult moments.
The difficult moments.
Are not the explosions.
Or the danger:
“Sometimes the hardest.
Thing is the silence.
After the news.
Of losses.”
She finds strength.
In thinking of her family.
Away from the front lines.
Who “survive a week.”
“Without light.
And heating.
But don’t lose the hope.
For a better future”.
They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
Not a button, or feather, or mark,
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
While the fighting continues.
She can’t imagine.
Another life:
“My place is here.”
“As long as the enemy.
Is in my house.”
“As long as the enemy.
Is in my house.”
In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
He had softly and suddenly vanished away—
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.
*Because I read “Civilians to soldiers: how four years of war has changed ordinary Ukrainians” by Laura Gozzi on 21 Feb 2026, 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 Olena, led by ‘The Hunting of the Snark’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Civilians to soldiers: how four years of war has changed ordinary Ukrainians
