She prays for the bees
in relentless waves
crashing over jetties.

A fine mess
we’ve gotten ourselves
into, she says.

Many Labor Days ago, multiple stings
across her knees triggered an awareness
she can’t suppress.

What remains:
rising sea levels,
tidal floods, eroded dunes.

Soon docks, roads, whole cities,
will return to a watery abyss.
Prayers become pleas.

Past time to create living shorelines,

keep fossil fuels
underground, eat more plants,
buy better bulbs, pull the plugs,

capture and harness
the wind, the sun’s rays,
harvest energy from the stars.