The Coward of Koriukivka

Living on the border
Between partisans and grass
In denial of disorder,
Sipping afternoon kvass.

Then out of nothing but pure evil
They emerged and shot your mother,
Brother, sister, father, others
While you hid under the covers.

Now you wander through the thickets
Speaking listlessly to crickets
For they hold more meaning to you,
Than what’s left of all the world.

And when a fascist passes by
Ashen murder in his eye
He doesn’t kill you 
Since you are already dead.