I am known for flowers and death,
The scent of charred flesh on the air.
Chernobyl happened here,
Making ghost towns out of Chornobyl and Pripyat.
I am known for radiation and borscht,
The taste of sweet dirt on our tounges.
Yes, it is red,
But who cares about the color
When you can go to bed
With a full belly?
I am known for famine and sunflowers,
The gaunt frames of
The potato farmers
Mingling about.
Yes, we were starved under
Stalin's harsh regime,
But we survived that.
I am known for flowers and death,
The scent of charred flesh on the air.
Chernobyl happened here,
Making ghost towns out of Chornobyl and Pripyat.
YOU ARE READING
Call Us What By What We Carry
Ficción GeneralCountryhumans (in my AU) summed up by one free-verse poem (each countryhuman gets one poem) Title inspired by Amanda Gorman's, "Call Us What We Carry." All poems are by me.
