there was a mountain
covered in dahlias. from
the hillside to the valley;
they’re supposed to grant
peace—maybe it was happiness,
the definitions say there is a difference.

we experienced it out west,
maybe south,
the dahlias could have been conjured
by a dream that doesn’t exist anymore
because flowers rarely grow
as a bed of purple velvet.

maybe it wasn’t a mountain,
nor a valley,
maybe it was the sea.