DAKOTA


Late one afternoon I stopped at a furniture store.

A sign on the door said, “Come on in. See what you can see.”

The only customer seemed to be me

So I leisurely strolled down the aisles

Looking for a desk or something to fill a spot.

A salesgirl approached and asked,”Is there something you like a lot?

Can I help you find what you need?”

Her friendly eyes and smile put me at ease.

I went from one item to another.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Dakota,” she replied in a voice I barely heard.

“Are you North or South?” I quipped.

“People ask all the time,” she said. “But Dakota is just a word.

I get tired of hearing it.  No one says anything else.”

I shook my head and sighed.

“Your name is full of excitement,” I replied.

“Dakota is what the Sioux Indians called themselves.

It’s a special word meaning friend.

And the states are lands without end.

Mt. Rushmore with four faces,

The sculpture of Crazy Horse nearby,

Black hills gold and the oil boom,

A place where bees fill the sky.

The roar of motorcycles in Sturgis,

Bismarck, Fargo, and Pierre,

Dinosaur bones and fossils,

So much can be discovered there.

Your name is rich with history,

A beautiful name to be worn with pride,

You were given a gift that means so much,

It’s not a name to hide.”

Her eyes grew big, her smile grew wide.

Her perceptions had changed, she was different inside.

“Thank you so much for all you said.

I can be mysterious, beautiful, and proud,

I’m ready to stand out in a crowd.”

She greeted other customers as they came in

But turned and faced me with a grin.

“My name is Dakota, and I’ll be your friend,

Today, tomorrow, all the way to the end.”

She gave me a hug and said goodbye,

And wiped the tears from her eyes.

But now she had a reason for her smile

And I noticed her feet dancing

As she went down the aisle.

 

 

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