What are they talking about?
They’re talking about dying.
Those giant sunflowers, flattened
by the hurricane, spring back
when gently pushed into place, but beg
for the tallest stakes imaginable;
there isn’t time before the ferry leaves
to run Down-Island to Shirley’s Hardware.
It’s get those supports
and barely make the boat
or take the kids to the Flying Horses.
Let those sad yellow faces
go, choose the future,
face the consequences.