Last night, they sang hymns in Kiev;
this morning, they sandbag the malls.
Saturday, schoolboys with rifles.
Sunday, late shoppers man the walls.
The sky burns bright – pale blue to blush
to red – obliterates the stars.
Commuters, to the metro rush;
but no buses, no trains, no cars…
come, unfriendly bombs, rain fire
on these family homes, held dear;
churn fountains and streams to mire.
Upturn dreams; open eyes; unclear.