image from creator.nightcafe.com
poem submitted to "Tie Dye in July" poetry contest, Anthony Bianco, sponsor, July 17, 2026
Morning slips in sideways. Moonbeam dips a cotton shirt into a bowl of dyes~ colors blooming outward like shy creatures learning their names. She lifts the fabric. Droplets fall in bright plinks, each one a tiny skipping stone across the warmth of July. On the clothesline, the tie-dyed shirt sways~ a small carnival of swirl and hush, its spiral turning slowly as if practicing for some future miracle. Moonbeam hums. Not a song~ more like a friendly spell to coax the colors into behaving. They don’t. A streak of green wiggles free and settles into a shape that looks suspiciously like mischief. Wind arrives, ruffling the hem with the politeness of a guest who knows it’s early. The shirt answers with a soft flutter~ a tiny applause. By afternoon, the spiral tightens, gathers itself, and glows faintly as if July tucked a secret inside it. Moonbeam takes it down, presses the warm cotton to her cheek, and laughs. Then she slips it on, and the swirl settles against her like a tame comet choosing a shoulder to rest on.
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