Dzvinia Orlowsky

Hope Was a Thing with Pink Feathers: Oksana Baiul

 

Hope was a thing with pink feathers
circling Olympic ice.
Despite her tender years,
a woman of great composure.

Circling Olympic ice for gold,
Ukraine!  We could hardly believe our ears:
This woman of great composure,
 triple Lutz-flip-loop world premiere.

Ukraine! (We could hardly believe our ears)
representing the once orphaned and lost…
With a triple Lutz-flip-loop world premiere,
How much could one girl cost? 

Representing the once orphaned and lost,
a dash of Broadway thrown in for good cheer.
How much could one girl cost?
Kerrigan, steely—no fame fetters yet or fear. 

A little Broadway never hurt a routine—
Then: gold!  Oksana cried and cried and cried.
Kerrigan gauged her steely dream:
It’s taking twenty minutes for officials to find

Oksana cried and cried and cried—let’s say, triple-cried.
Post Soviet tears no longer held to ransom.
It took twenty minutes for Olympic officials to find
Ukraine’s national anthem.

As Nancy Kerrigan’s eyes demanded ransom,
her Vera Wang swan about to be pronounced dead,
still no copy of Ukraine’s national anthem—
maybe they’d play Russia’s instead.

No flowers, swans or poppies red,
at home, we held our breath.
Maybe they’d fly Russia’s eagle instead.
But damn, this gold was our destined wealth.

At home, we waited, held our breath.
Where was our anthem, the homeland tether?
Slava Boha..! this could be our wealth.
Our hope was a thing with pink feathers.

 

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