The block’s sentinel
molded to a plastic chair
affixed to a slab balcony
knowing nothing, seeing all,
like the Queen’s Life Guard,
he didn't ruffle or speak.
Blue and gold
did not adorn his post,
but his tongue was thick.
Through the blister and ice
of Midwestern seasons,
his surface smoothed.
The ambulance came late,
his body returned to earth,
his soul to Carpathia.
Now she sits
molded to a plastic chair
in this new Ukraine.
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