21/01/2016: From the Vault: Tritinas of Dawnlight

(This is kind of a combined ‘From The Vaults’ and ‘2016’ post; bear with me. Remember how last post I mentioned how criminally easy tritinas are to write? I didn’t always find them this way. So here are two tritinas on the same subject, written within a few weeks of each other, just to demonstrate how far I’ve come.)

Tritina of Dawnlight no. 1

I wonder why we call it dawn breaking;

As if the night were something the Sun splinters,

A thing ephemeral, untouchable, yet fragile, too.

 

Perhaps, as we drunkenly stumble home to

Our beds, it’s not the night that is breaking

At all; the air echoes and fractures into cold splinters

 

With what-might-have-been, could-have, would-have, were

The night a different place. We stumble home, the two

Of us together, appreciating the gold light as dawn breaks.

 

Dawn breaks; is the sky splintering? Or is it the tears in my eyes that make it look so fractured?

 

Tritina of Dawnlight no. 2

The sun rises; I watch as dawn breaks

And wonder why we call it that; as if night were a thing

That were tangible, physical. Something to

 

Throw against a wall in a fury, or to

Seize too quickly in a too-strong grip, and watch as it breaks

In your hands, the darkness, the starlight, splintering

 

Into pieces, the early morning sunlight weaving

Between the cracks. Slowly, wearily, we two

Make our way home, to bed, through dawn breaking.

 

Gold light fills the morning and breaks the fading night to pieces.

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