Poetry

Reuters photo

By

g emil reutter

Shevchenko Stirs in His Grave

The bear continues to paw away at lines as the eagle

circles above never landing. The blue shield bends, but holds

as the world watches.

Shevchenko stirs in his grave

An angry little man who loves his mirror struts about Moscow

spews lies, hungers for the empire that shattered decades ago.

A little man in search of little Russia plays with soldiers as if they

are toys, each die in the name of his ego.

Shevchenko stirs in his grave

Crimea whimpers under the paw of the bear as the little man

dances, tanks pass through the old square. He ignores mothers

of Ukraine and Russia weeping for loved ones lost.  He catches

his reflection, admires himself, puffs out his chest, wants

to be taller.

Shevchenko stirs in his grave

White Gyrfalcon ascends the blue gray skies of Ukraine, gold

trident pointed east, freedom the cause.

Shevchenko stirs in his grave

g emil reutter

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. Nine collections of his fiction and poetry have been published. He can be found at:https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/