Currently working on a terzanelle, which is an awful lot of fun, but harder than it looks. I absolutely love villanelles, but this is my first time with this form. Since I'm not going to post half a poem, here's one by Lewis Turco. I suppose I'll keep doing this: if I don't have anything postable, I'll quote something. I'll leave quote-posts in italics to make it obvious that what I'm posting isn't mine.

"Terzanelle in Thunderweather"

This is the moment when shadows gather
under the elms, the cornices and eaves.
This is the center of thunderweather.

The birds are quiet among these white leaves
where wind stutters, starts, then moves steadily
under the elms, the cornices, and eaves--

these are our voices speaking guardedly
about the sky, of the sheets of lightning
where wind stutters, starts, then moves steadily

into our lungs, across our lips, tightening
our throats. Our eyes are speaking in the dark
about the sky, of the sheets of lightening

that illuminate moments. In the stark
shades we inhibit, there are no words for
our throats. Our eyes are speaking in the dark

of things we cannot say, cannot ignore.
This is the moment when shadows gather,
shades we inhibit. There are no words, for
this is the center of thunderweather.