Wreckers

Tonight I have lost my fire
and you ask me to sail—
moment’s notice—into deep

places of heart, hand; deep
enough to touch coal, fire
it as beacon (and I sail

without compass or map, sail
faith-blind, groundless, in deep
starless winter night, no fire

but soul-fire, sail-blazed, plunder-deep).

A tritina, for Rowan.

17 thoughts on “Wreckers”

  5. You swam into that last line so effortlessly. I struggle with the repetitive words when I write tritinas; it’s hard for me to make those three words not feel like stuttering, but I glided right over yours. I hope you’ll try more in this form. Show me how it’s done!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thanks. This felt a little easier than when I’ve tried before. I think the key is getting the right words handed to you. 🙂

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      Reply

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