knee deep in her own turmoil
     weeds cropped up around her like moles
              and even the raven had a hard time not laughing at her

is this really necessary?
        but if she didn’t bury her ore in the mud,
        how else would they turn to diamonds?

             her laughter was like a holy sermon
            soothing her anxiety over following his last wishes
                  and following her only wish

            does she make him proud
            or does she live her life out with pride?

why don’t you just ask?

         … there is that.

Prompt: Muddy