candles in earth tell
ancient fables to tree roots
angels whisper “Grow”.
…
Category: art
Why is it all about the ‘base’?
but they still talk about the Trumpist base
all ‘bout the base, not justice,
but some of that Trumpist base are fascists
it’s ’bout that base, ’bout that base, not justice
it’s all ’bout that base, ’bout that base …
Mother Mezuzah; a Tree of Life Tale
Becca lived with her dad, Jo, and her younger sibling, Jacob, near the city park. From her bedroom window in their attic, some of the remaining trees of an ancient forest seemed to spill into their garden. Everyday her dad would put Jacob in a toddler carrier on his back and they’d welcome the day…
To Celebrate Life
I eat nuts with coats hard to crack, learn to peel a pomegranate, knowing there are things unknowable; inedible, like shells, but beneath that are healthful wonders that shine as pearls, such are the deepest mysteries wrapped in garments that help shield the world, I eat soft fruits with hard, uneaten pits, sweet ripe plums,…
CHAPTER 5: Poggle, George & The Dragon
Originally posted on The Library of Lost Wands:
The Library of Lost Wands, Epic Potterverse Fanfiction set in 1919 by Antonia Sara Zenkevitch, Disclaimer Go to Index of Chapters The next day began in a subdued mood, but as The Eagle chugged out of Paris at 4 o’clock the grey dawn drew its first rays…
Valcamonica; the last mountain (#WritePhoto)
August 2015 travelogue: Valcamonica, Italy The last mountain I climbed was a place I saw art that has spoken to our kin over millennia. It still offers a signpost to wonderers and wanderers today. I won’t kid around, the journey was hard; I could hardly walk, even then, plus my asthma wasn’t under control but…
Strange Sights
I do not get out as often as I’d like due to severe mobility & health issues. Seeing the world from up on high, complete with aerial views of early autumn hills and human habitats, is a rare thing for anyone, especially those with special access needs. Last weekend I went on a cable car…
Real Fantasy
(post formally called ‘the magic touch’) I love magical realism, the unexplained sitting side by side with routine, reasoned reality. Perhaps I love it because in truth reality rarely appears very reasonable. My fascination may in part be because that taste of magic fulfills in me a yearning for everyday enchantment, but not too much…
Saffron Shores (art and poem)
Thieve me into relief or sleep,
Steal me onto far saffron shores
Where Valerian seas beget
Rests thirstier than nutmeg thoughts
Thieve me into relief or sleep.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Zebra Unicorn
Alternative Text: a zebra unicorn stands on clover grass under a starry night sky full of shooting stars Unicorn Zebra rarest of the rare, horses say we don’t exist, seek us where we roam. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 