How to Build a Lighthouse
The story begins with a beacon
in a tower of brick.
Or it begins with a man,
you’d call him the keeper,
who mostly refuses
sleep to listen
to the steady crash
of the Pacific or the red buoy’s
sad clanging inside the mist.
It begins with brick,
wheelbarrows of bricks
someone must stack
into the shape of a story.
The night was too black
for stars. The light
failed; the man slept. The rest
you should already know.
How silly we were
to trust in man, but who
hasn’t made that mistake?
Inside the mist, the red buoy
clanged its sadness
as the man slept;
that’s how the story begins.
about the author