by Nan Ottenritter
Ukrainians walk through Bucha,
unearth, document, store, and ship bodies,
I cry, wonder why, and
how such happens. Let’s be honest.
I’ve not seen destruction drop from the air,
roll through streets, hide in forests,
root out the hidden in basements.
Deadly games of evil and armaments, and
crimes against humanity were addressed at
the Nuremberg Trials.
Where are the guardrails now? Let’s be honest.
If families flee, suitcase in one hand, child and dog in the other,
grandmas brave cold subway station nights,
white-garbed men count bodies, and
an every-person inspires and leads his country, then
surely we can figure this out.
Nan Ottenritter lives and writes in Richmond, VA. Her first chapbook Eleanor, Speak is available from Finishing Line Press.
