I tried out a triquain for the OctPoWriMo prompt today. This is a triquain swirl, the double triquain with a sort of erased coda.
Doors are made,
not grown from the rich earth,
they keep out and keep in, their function
swinging with the seasons, drifting leaves, bold sun bolts.
I paint a door in blue
of the sky
inviting birds to fly,
faces to look up and wonder what lies
beyond. I make no judgement except on those who
clip the wings of beauty,
In blue of the sky, flying birds.