Limonium carolinianum        

 Her territory:

the essence of temporary,

the uncertain, beaten, worn

and ever-moving, ever-changing breath

where sea and moon

exchange their greetings.

 

She thrives,

indeed can only survive

among shore rocks and marsh grasses,

her roots anchored

in soft and spongey sea mud.

The air she breathes is cold and salty.

Her taut, thin stems,

wrapped in seaweed

and the papery remains of crabs,

branch into spikey statements

of tiny blue-gray flowers,

sprays of pale delicacy

that hint at her tough tenderness.

 

She’s weathered a lot of storms,

has many tales to tell.

But she saves them.

And when all the other flowers

are dead or dormant

and it’s winter

and we look for warmth and stories,

there she is,

reminding us

that the tide advances

and the tide recedes,

so send your roots down deep

and hold your head up high.