Russian women
By Steve Jones
Russian women walk alone
but I hear them cry as one.
War is all they've ever known.
I hear Russian women crying.
See the trees
blow in the breeze.
Listen.
In the wind
I hear Russian women crying.
The wind will blow over
every Russian soldier
far from his home
that lay dead or dying.
I hear Russian women crying.
Sleet and freezing rain
are the tears of Russian women.
Women born in knowing
that what they love
will soon be dying.
And they will be placing
flowers on a stone.
I hear Russian women crying.
Melting snow leaves fields of mud.
Artists paint and write with blood.
War is all they've ever known.
I hear Russian women crying.
Light a candle
and you pray.
There is no music,
no ballet.
These are things,
so you've been told,
for those that dine
in rooms of gold
and live to see their sons grow old.
I hear Russian women crying.
I hear Russian children crying.
I hear Russian sisters crying.
I hear Russian fathers crying.
I hear Russian daughters crying.
I hear Russian brothers crying.
I hear Russia crying.
Steve Jones 2026
