Fake Orange Quote
On an early autumn day, my mind muddled by
mindless oratory from an outrageous orange ego,
I descended in desperation to the garden
seeking to silence suffering through solitude
when a cloudless sulphur butterfly fluttered
to a magnificent Mexican sunflower, its petals
intense orange against garden green and I learned
not to judge a color by its connection to
a bad character.
Prompt: Opening–well I opened to the not judging concept and the sunflower opened to the sun and at one point the butterfly opened its wings and I probably opened a can of worms by misquoting MLK so horribly–or maybe I’m just rebelling?
The Poetry and Prose of Barbara Huntington 
You have really done some gorgeous writing over the month of October. This one made me laugh but then didn’t. The photograph is priceless. I’m seeing your chapbook as a braiding between phtography and words.
Thank you