Through dawn and dusk,
The ravenous tide, settles for undulation,
But the light, for salvation,
Guiding passersby,
Allowing them to use a compass,
With each swoop of light, a huge
sigh of relief is heaved,
Leaving room for doubt,
but handling reassurance with patience and grace,
For the lighthouse wasn’t always a lighthouse, a beacon of light…
Those who knew would recall the stories with a shiver running down their spine,
And rightfully so,
But the real question is,
Where did the building before the lighthouse go?
Nessa 🖤
AFRO387 