How could she foresee
back when her seed was first sown
that her hair would hang
in all this lovely chaos
that would offend the roses?

Note: From one ‘lovely chaotic’ person to all of my ‘lovely chaotic’ friends, thank you for following, liking, and commenting over the last month. It was super fun for me, and you made it so much better. Break time! We will see what shows up next.

Long days
of horses and hay dust --
sun stains my shoulders, 
my eyes squint, not making out
what is before me, ever

The sun flitters
through branches and leaves
to land at your gate --
warming it, bringing surprise,
waiting to be welcomed in. 

As the snow falls,
the world becomes fuzzy
and brings us 
to confusion --
but somehow also to rest. 

There are few things
I do not ask of the lake
as I lie 
on this beach towel
avoiding the answers. 

A slow night on the river.
Dinghies pause for small, last tasks. 
Sun flattens water,
reflects off its surface,
wanders back home to the sky.