It’s a long time since I wrote a tritina, and the day is damp and grey. Again.
I wake to grey, a veil of rain,
Cold winter light streams wet as tears,
And all the world is silent weeping.
Keep your songs, too loud the weeping,
Drummed tattoos, gunmetal rain,
Perhaps spring sun will dry our tears.
Buttercup, daisy, flower tears
Spring from the grass this time of weeping;
Thrusting shoots poke through cold rain.
Rain or tears, the clouds are weeping.