Sea Tulip
By Scott-Patrick Mitchell
Published 15 December 2022
Ascidian, you who siphons
canticle from salt and fluid:
a squirt by any other name.
We call you sea tulip
for the red your head
gives to the waves.
Out there in cluster
you clung to seagrass
and reef, filtering to feed.
How many larvae
have you spawned
for the rip?
How many have struggled
to find safe passage
in this aqua engine’s grip?
Like those lost,
you too:
gone.
Beneath comb, bloom
as artefact, a hushed tone
drying into day.
The beach is a vase and you
cannot slake in the arms
of solar warming stem: decay.