The Dahlia dances in the wind, bathes in the rain
She watches day turn to night, spring turn to summer
By the time her stem is sturdy, frost has come
Her petals embraced bees and sunlight endlessly
But it was over before it even began
As she withers, the soil reminds her
What does the soil know?
It is filled with rock and worm to remember
But Dahlia indeed listens
She, too, recalls soft fingers on her leaves
Cool water atop her newly planted seeds
Gentle tears when she was the only one to feel them
How she longs for it now
For the love, she couldn’t recognize
She tilts her face to the sky
Thank you, her teary voice whispers
Rest now, spring is waiting
Soil embraces her now
Shielding her heart, her roots, her memory
But in the cold, Dahlias aren’t perennials
And again, the soil lied.