Small plants near the sea, I think, are naive.
They push their little roots down through the loam
As if they grew far from where the tides upheave.
They set out their ripening buds for bees
Never acknowledging gulls, fish, or foam--
As if they need not consider the fact
Of the water, impenetrably deep.
Their petals vibrate in the humid breeze
As if it's fine for a seedling to sleep
To the rattle of rocks and waves’ impact.
Why don't they hunch like a wind-blown tree?
Why don't they dread the presence of the sea?