Ink Tea Stone Leaf

This July, I’m going to write a short poem (or a long one, who knows?) every day. I’ll post them once a week until the month is over. That pretty much explains it, I think.

July 25th, 2026

It's not tomorrow 'til I sleep,
and I can stretch tonight as far
as this unfinished

July 26th, 2026

Listen in the dark
and keep whatever you hear
to your own damn self.

July 27th, 2026

A crown of flowers in your hair,
a wreath of lavender—
a catalog of petals fair,
a fragrant calendar.

July 28th, 2026

Lullaby and lullaby
from night to night to night to night,
a sleeping song, a sedative
to bear the ready brain to bed
with merry milligrams of music.

July 29th, 2026

Another word—another,
yes, I said another, 
listen—listen, dammit,
can I get a word—
can I get a word
across before you—
listen, I was only
saying—yes, I said it,
I agree, completely.

July 30th, 2026

An opportunity—identified
a few dozen years late—is lost,
is only good for reminding injured hearts
they must endure without the balm of trust.

July 31st, 2026

My Serenity, a sailing boat
at sea, afloat upon the moon's reflection—
such a fairy craft, a delicate
projection, mariner's infinity.