Ponytales

My hair holds stories

tied back loosely

against the chaos

of letting it down

each strand

carrying its own lie

just barely contained

Mud & Guts

Dead

doe

moments

earlier

scouting for babies

reduced to side-of-the-road mud

& how it all changes for fawns

       watching from the woods

For Just One Word in the Imaginary Garden: MUDDY

Behind Blue

True

seems useless

musing on blue

when moon and rain

bend the riverway

as she sways

I have mused

on these truths

Now tree

swallows riot

rose bramble

behind fences

And so it seems

out of tune

to go on musing

blue moon truths

the riverway as

she bends and sways

and rain and rain

and rain

For Margaret’s COLOR prompt in the Imaginary Garden