NaPoWriMo PROMPT: Write a triolet. These eight-line poems involve repeating lines and a tight rhyme scheme. Note: I didn’t stick strictly to the form but did have fun with the pattern.
The streets are empty, the people inside.
The world is doing a big lockdown.
Noise is gone. Quiet’s amplified.
The germs take over and people hide.
The empty streets do have an upside.
Creatures enjoy the kid’s playgrounds.
The wild which the tourists occupied
Is now alive with animal sounds.
This poem isn’t by Chekov.
It isn’t even by his wife.
It’s not a vision from above.
I wrote it standing by the stove.
It’s not inspired by lost love
But makes a point sharp as a knife.
While reading it you’ll see that you’ve
Lost twenty seconds of your life.