An Excavation

A heavy silence rests upon
The gray shores of Lighthouse beach
Jagged cliffs jut from the earth in defiance
Of the attempted peace
The wind whistles and sand from the beach
Whirls about, stinging the face
Of a stranger
Who sits upon a red blanket
Pondering the spindly clouds

Lighthouse Beach is a place of mourning;
There, the sunlight is cold and hard
Like steel
Like a Blackbird’s eye

The name, a hoax perhaps-
For no lighthouse stands sentinel
And only ghost ships pass the shores

Yet
Further exploration inland
Will reveal
Old ruins hidden
Amongst a tangle of peonies

The charred footprint
Of a lighthouse
Whose fiery vivacity
Burned itself
Into the damp ground

I hope it had been
Foggy that night-
The last glory hours
Of demise
Spent not in
Vain.