POEM: Lighthouse Keeper

The lonely lighthouse keeper,
peering through a deep-set but narrow window
at waves smashing onto the rocky shore,
spouting upwards in a fanned geyser.

So much depends 
upon his maintenance of momentum,

but the better things go,
the more dreadfully boring is life,

and when things go poorly,
there are russian roulette
odds of tragedy.

Like life on a mountain,
but when someone crashes 
into the mountainside,
the mountain-man
is an unlikely participant
in the tragedy.  

POEM: Lonely Boat

The languid roll of the boat signaled loneliness — silently but steadily.

Was it the inseparable connection of wave and hull — each feeling that, despite the lack of distance between them, they would remain distinct?

Was it that there wasn’t another mast for miles, at least the twelve miles out to the horizon?

Was it the motion, purposeless and uniform, a lethargic fidget that signaled anxiousness without anticipation.