Dreaming in Mariupol

In the stark silence
Between sirens
That is night 
During war
I rise naked
From fitful sleep
In search of food
For my hungers

Blind in the dark
Of bombardment
I slice a bakery loaf
From one of two
Choosing banana bread
But now am startled
To taste coffee cake
With only a stingy pinch
Of brown sugar or nuts

Another bland truth
In this kitchen 
Of rotten horrors
And no coffee
Within reach
To wash it down

                   By Anne McCrady

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