Mournful Dahlias

Mourning Dahlias

A garden full of blossoms,
Was this so fresh a flesh?
Robins, sparrows, and other birdlings
Perch, hop, and chirp,
Their roosts and nests
Were rose-woven heavenly crafts,
So natural and yet manly.

A lawn lay down and grown,
Green grasses growing for goats to graze,
A growth to celebrate and yet mourn.
A tempestuous Lucifer roars sins,
Sins that curse the beauty of the lawn,
The green growing grasses no longer food for the goats to graze.

The dahlias I kept now wither,
Their petals now like deadly belladonna,
That kills the gluttony of every eater.
Alas! Oh, Divinity!
Why then? Why now?
Why will this hour be the winter of my growing dahlias?

The nectar that savors the gluttony
Of the buzzing bees and beetles around the garden
Now tastes a natural lemon-bitter,
The dream of my curious sparrows, robins, and their birdlings
To perch, hop, and chirp happily
Now shattered like a tattered mat.

Abba Yusif Birnin Kudu
 14th July, 2024