I shared a Britain Europeans could call home
In the four decades my skin was called my own,
One day I’ll tell our Islands’ descendants
I shared a Britain Europeans could call home,
Before the dice of jeopardy was thrown
And all that amity was gone and done
In the four decades my skin was called my own,
I shared a Britain Europeans could call home.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
This is the second Triolet I’ve written in as many days, inspired by a challenge set by a wonderful poet whose diverse work can be seen at https://reowr.com/ . My first triolet was 48 Percent Life, which is perhaps a better poem structurally than my second attempt at this form, but I’m enjoying this particular type of poem.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by antoniazen
Word-weaver and artist. I'm Co-founder of Nott Normal; a Nottinghamshire based independent accessible, adaptive and gently provocative arts collaboration. Resident story-weaver for set of virtual Cottage in the Woods courses by Yelala from late autumn 2020, early Spring 2021. My writing and art have recently been part of Poems on Prescription, the National Museum of Justice's (UK) acclaimed Letters of Restraint, and The National Holocaust Memorial Centre's (UK) What is Testimony? Art and written work has appeared in various independent publications including LeftLion, Miknaf Haaretz, and Proliterat. I'm a warrior of various disabilities and chronic illnesses with an MA in Human Security (Peace and Human Development). I've worked in creative conflict resolution, sustainability & interfaith work. I stood for parliament (& local gov) in 2015, getting 9.9%, in the top 20 national results for the party. I've since left politics unless you count negotiating between three cats and a laptop. I love animals, my favourite humans, wild landscapes, accessible cities and the sea.
View all posts by antoniazen
The 48% 