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.
This entry was posted in Free Verse, poem, Poetry and tagged Free Verse, Lighthouse, Lighthouse Keeper, Loneliness, poem, poetry, Vers Libre by
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