Solidago
Oh goldenrod, turned brown, your burling
seedheads, stalks withered.
Yet you stand upright beside
this morning’s damp ledge-stone.
I carried cans of water to your feet
all through the hot, bone-dry summer.
You rocked in the searing breeze,
bending toward the sun even so.
I’ve admired your late-summer blooms,
where the bees rubbed their yellow-coated legs.
Yesterday some hopeful rain finally splashed
down and soaked into the dusty ground.
Are your roots reaching outward
to extend your footprint for next year’s glory?