Be you a young Russian soldier
doing as you’re told or
a young Ukrainian,
castaway
from home,
castaway
from peace,
castaway
from family,
beware the ides of March.
They are come.
No soothsayer need
say us nay,
it is not gone for
the gloom of war rides each of us.
We are connected
as we never were before.
No lies can hide
the truth in photographs,
anguished faces, blast-craters,
a pregnant mother
carried out motionless
on a stretcher
from her leveled maternity ward.
Tears of children
in my news feed —
the gloom is here
inside me.
I wish I could stop there.
Crowded railway stations,
mass graves,
bombed buildings,
hostages in hospitals,
empty market shelves,
freezing cold,
people with empty hands
standing in the way of
tanks,
I wish I could stop there.
55 Ukrainian children
made refugees
every minute —
Make it stop.
No, the gloom is
not past.
We will all be judged.
Copyright 2022 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: I feel like I’m in a dystopian movie, the news has turned so dire and brimming with more drama than any play by Shakespeare. The death of Caesar seems like small beans compared to the bombing of Ukraine, a much more expansive betrayal by a neighbor than any I imagined happening in 2022. I’ve been speechless with horror. Still the pandemic surges and falls. I worry for the Ukrainians, trying to survive and remain Ukrainians. I worry for the Russian people, with the economic backlash of world disapproval falling on them. I worry for people out in the cold, lacking medical care, power, clothing, water, shelter, safety, and food. I worry for the children.
Hope is the only friend we have in such times. Hope is a special kind of magic that only takes a spark. May you feel that spark. May the gloom go with the passing of the ides.
Meanwhile, I’m embarking on a new adventure. — exercising more, teaching my son to drive, changing jobs, and doom-scrolling again.
19 thoughts on “Beware the Ides of March”
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Friendly Fairy Tales 
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford.
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Reblogged this on From guestwriters.
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A beautifully expressed poem. Painful and heartfelt. We are all involved.
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Yes, exactly. Thank you.
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Dear Brenda
We agree this war is like something out of a dystopian novel.
We need another Brutus, indeed.
Wishing you all the best
The Fab Four of Cley
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
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Thanks, Klausbernd and Fab Four. So many sad stories arising out of Ukraine. I couldn’t be silent anymore. Wishing you all the best, too.
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Brenda. Would you please send me the title of the book, again. I can’t find it and I didn’t write it down right away. Thank you. The one about rage.
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Rage Becomes Her — https://www.amazon.com/Rage-Becomes-Her-Power-Womens/dp/1501189565/ref=asc_df_1501189565/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=343252348283&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=11949403031289624328&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9002065&hvtargid=pla-756369652205&psc=1&tag=&ref=&adgrpid=69758511580&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvadid=343252348283&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=11949403031289624328&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9002065&hvtargid=pla-756369652205
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It’s a terrible thing and we should all be doing so much more. A baby, 22 days old, dead, on the news today. I think as a species, we have passed rock bottom. Your words are appreciated.
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Thanks, Gigi. It must be terrible to be someone to whom lives don’t matter — that babies don’t matter.
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A perfect portrayal of an awful situation.💜
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Thanks, Willow. I hope for peace, but not at the cost of Ukraine being lost.
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Yes indeed so do we all 💜
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Hopeless feelings here. TV running in the background as I try to keep doing the daily tasks.
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There has to be a way to stop it. I have to have hope.
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this is painful and powerful and true.
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Thanks, Beth. I know it’s a departure for my site to write about war, but I needed to, I suppose.
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I needed to as well and I think it’s important to do
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