Today I played with the tritina, using the words from a 2007 poem:
Time Zones (redux)
Three o’clock in the morning
awakened by the pointy nose of our dog
dreams interrupted while you sleep
East coast bakers finished with their sleep,
send aroma ribbons of cinnamon and coffee into the morning
back alley garbage cans, a haven for a stray dog
A muffled whimper from our dog
I pull you close as your sleep
breathe synchronizes in the early morning
Three o’clock in the morning, our dog shifts south as you sleep.
© 2014 Jone Rush MacCulloch all rights reserved
The original poem:
Time Zones
Three o’clock in the morning
I lay awake. Our dog’s moist pointy nose
nuzzles the ell of my knees.
You sleep soundly.
East coast bakers swing open doors,
releasing aroma ribbons, invisible hooks
pulling early morning workers inside for
hasty cups of coffee and warm pastries.
West of me, moonlight guides a lone wanderer
roaming deserted streets
Church bells sound off, an alarm clock
proclaiming a new day.
I turn over, draping my arm over your midriff,
pulling you closer. Breathing synchronizes,
our dog shifts south
All this while you sleep soundly.
© 2007 Jone Rush MacCulloch all rights reserved
It certainly changes the tone of the poem, I think.
Jone Rush MacCulloch 