THE LIGHTHOUSE

I am a lone bird wheeling jagged edges

of ancient cliffs above the shallows

of a rough Dover sea.

My feathers gleam in the beam of

the lighthouse where gentle swells

pulse against rocky shores

where in dreams you held me tenderly like 

treasured pearls.

I have abandoned the lighthouse

that seems to lean closer to the sea

waiting in vain at the tide swept shore.

The beam has ceased its search

still each time I pass I  tip my  wing.

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