It starts as a quiet revolution
In bright jackets; les gilets jaunes
dissenting escalating taxation
overseen by President Macron,
they took to the streets
in yellow vests, to protest
tax breaks for the very rich,
and broken by tax for the rest,
so, France took to her feet,
a woman spoke of solidarity
where all faiths and cultures meet,
supporters included the police,
they gathered to talk and eat;
lifted out of their despair
by friends they never thought to meet
and change you could taste in the air,
but then the riots,
attacking people’s cars,
homes, small businesses –
a few people gone way too far
as the world witnesses
and the peaceful gilet jaunes
say the violent are not ours
and now police have batons
and the night is full of fire,
and then the man with a gun
in Strasburg Christmas market,
not one of the gillet jaunes;
the gunman called ‘Algerian terrorist’
on the television
in world media release,
all we know for certain
is the death of innocents,
a murderer; a chaotic, cold assassin
who broke lives and prayers of peace,
and the gillet jaunes forced to stay in
at the military presence speedy increase,
but they cannot find him;
every security service
seeks a known man on the run
and, for now, the yellow vests
go home until the mourning’s done.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
(a poem of solidarity across borders. I’m still European as well as British)
The 48% 