Hurricane

Mid the churning mist, the evil eye,
Nestled in the seeming soft whorl,
Sets his sights on fragile earth,
Sweeping all in his gaze,
We ready and brace,
Water, milk, bread,
Hurricane
Matthew
Time

The Change of Life

The tears you stop, the rest you bring,
My evening friend with your crystal glass.
My cobwebbed womb a withered thing,
The tears you stop, the rest you bring.
Through this time each woman does pass,
The small pink pill saves my ass.
The tears you stop, the rest you bring
My evening friend with your crystal glass

I hope this is a Triolet, it’s my attempt anyway.