Self-Portrait (Triolet)
In a small room in late winter,
you listen to freezing rain.
You empty the mind, fill it with weather.
In a small room in late winter
when there’s nothing left to remember,
the moment has only itself to contain.
In a small room in late winter,
you listen to freezing rain.
Damn! Now I have to accepr the challenge!
Bravo! Some of the triolets I’ve read in Poetry magazine pale in comparison to this.