The Tilted Dahlias

Written by: Carrie Richards

On a sage green wall that once wore a blank look
dangling helplessly, without a complaint 
slightly askew, a tilt to the left
giving the viewer a crick of the neck

It hangs precariously, for an eager assessment
without annoyance, of an "either" or an "or"...
or a "helter or skelter"
Instead there's a "take me or leave me" 
in the bold assumption 
No hestatation came from the eager hands
that held it up in restless haste,
hammered a nail with pride and conviction
and placed it there with ardent fervor

Sharing a warmth of a seasonal decade....
this amateurish, yet delightful landscaped garden
sings in the sunshine, and smelling of springtime
shouting with color, and sprinkled with lavender
flavored with turpentine, and oil-painted rainbows

In the lower left corner, is an array of dahlias,
bursting with crimson, never changing or fading
never thirsty for water,
barren of a single, silent, dried up weed
and free of decay, dismay or mold

Now it is old.........dust to dust......ash to ash
he takes with him the pride he found

...still holding the brush stroke of a satisfied smile