Poetry
by Ilias Tsagas
On the wooden floor, coiled with handcuffs and leg irons on
like an embryo — dead.
But no, slaves were shackled standing.
Judging from the size of the cuffs
his wrists must have been thin.
Behind the glass
at the Maritime Museum in Greenwich
the leg irons remain locked
holding the soul of this lad.
Appeared in Issue Spring '22
Nationality: Greek
First Language(s): Greek
Second Language(s):
English
Das Land Steiermark
Listen to Ilias Tsagas reading "I Think He Was a Teen".
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