—To Taras Shevchenko (1814-1861)
When Russian troops were forced out of the town of Borodianka
in the spring of 2022, one left a bullet hole in the bust of this beloved
Ukrainian poet, painter, and supporter of independence from Russia.
The bullet fired at the back
of the statue’s head exited
above the dead poet’s brow
leaving a hole through which
you might see the sky,
the exit wound in the copper
leaving flaps like sunflower petals
blooming in spite of war.
The poems live on.
On its pedestal still sits the bust
through which we see
blue sky, yellow blooms of hope.
Tim Gillespie is a veteran public school teacher in Portland, Oregon, who learned much of what he knows about writing from fearless student writers. He co-founded the Oregon Writing Festival that gathers hundreds of aspiring young authors every spring for a day of workshops and craftwork, and for many summers he co-directed the Oregon Writing Project at Lewis & Clark College. Recent poems and essays have found readers in Passager, Abandoned Mine, Timberline Review, and the late Windfall. His poetry collection Old Stories, Some Not True, was published by MoonPath Press during the last pandemic.
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