UnFlowering

The “Tsunami warning” signs went up

Overnight along the stretch

Of seaside road that hugs

The cove, like an invasive plant

night blooming, choking the air

Our shared community beach

Now faces forward with signage

Between the beach rose & black Berry,

“private beach for HOA use only”

Like an stale memorial wreath,

marking the end of an era of freeplay

The streetend ADA compliant

public pier

Built to increase access &

enjoyment of beach by more humans

Sprouted up with signs of fear,

signs of contagion, weeds of worry

Toxic shellfish,

Tsunami warning,

no use from dusk to dawn,

no fires, no smoking,

no lifeguard, No trespassing,

The upgrowth of signs

with their bright and colorful markings

With their patterns and symbology

With their metal faces gleaming

In the light, reflecting in the dark

Planted here, by whom?

~

As if anyone can own the sea

~

Rising up to meet with a closed fist

As if they were an unflowering,

Forming a contraction inside me

As if they were a keep-out bouquet of

Who is not welcome,

Who does not belong,

All that you may NOT do

All that has been stolen, unreturned

All that you must worry about here

All that you must worry about

in the world—

Rising sea levels, toxic waters,

land abuse, climate crisis

What would the patterns of rocks,

sounds of shells,

and furniture of driftwood

say to these

newly transplanted metal unflowers

What would signage on the earth

for the LOVE of the earth say?

I will look to the faces of sunflowers

I will look to the blooming in you & me

I will look to what’s sprouting in renewal

Like an open palm of reverence—

I will look to the Flowering in all that is