Boulodrome
at night, where iron is
cast in an epic struggle to win
a prize as grand as a
prize can be.
The first time we lived in France, I worked next to a boulodrome. In The Netherlands, pétanque is not more than a summer pass time. So, to me, finding a boulodrome, in stead of just a pebbled rectangle in the town square, was quite the eye opener. Now, living in France for the second time, I know the boulodrome is everywhere. Even in our summer holiday mountain destination Flaine. I also know, that tournaments are serious business. Even at night.
The poem on top is a tritriplicata, a poetic form I created. If you want to know more about it, click here to find answers to some of the questions you might have. If you want to read a collection of tritriplicata poems, why not buy my ebook Thinking of Europe. It has 27 tritriplicata poems taking you on a journey through Europe.