Living Sketch Triolet

I made an earlier poem into a triolet, enjoy!

The page is blank, nascent shadows

pulse as the charcoal and graphite

crumble and my trembling hand flows.

My wrinkled brow casts a shadow

when her rough, grey eyes glint and glow

and I behold a strange, new sight,

daughter, born of askew shadows,

you’re all I have, from the graphite.

 

Author's Note

Anything helps!