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.