She’s a ray of light—you never know
what to expect. How can she not see
what I want her to, but see those
I don’t mind as much? Like sailing at sea
and beaching on a whale, I’m a bit lost.
I’m stuck in a forest undecided on spring
or autumn. Caught by dogged petrichor,
the brief silences between birds singing
leaves melancholy like tea turned bitter
from being too hot or left too long brewing.
It takes careful attention to make tea;
you can’t let it steep for too long,
or you’ll ruin it more than slightly.
Even the temperature can’t be too wrong
or you’ll run it aground very quickly.
“Angelica”, echoing off Broadway,
“by your side”, “satisfied.” Maybe
you’ll find yourself talking in a way
you don’t hear yourself. Maybe see
where you got lost and find what to say.
The silence blinds me; like parang I
know what to do but reality gets
in the way and the noise flashes by
that stuns the rest of the world quiet.
And in darkness, she passes by.
NaPoWriMo 2023. An attempt on the Twenty Little Poetry Projects. I did my best to get all twenty, but this is at most 16. Less if we’re really strict on the scope of each. 
This is another oldie-but-goodie. […] It really pushes you to use specific details, and to work on “conducting” the poem as it grows, instead of trying to force the poem to be one thing or another in particular. The prompt is called the “Twenty Little Poetry Projects,” and was originally developed by Jim Simmerman.
NaPoWriMo Day Eight Prompt
Flipped Serendipity 