Lighthouse

I should like to abandon myself
upon a craggy rock. Take stock
of artificial life and light, then darken
my parameters, for a year or so.

Scan harsh seas, at breakfast, lunch
and tea, adjust my Sou’wester, yellow
in its circumstance, as yellow as can be.

I’d take quite seriously the lone man’s
approach to being. Perhaps keep a dog
to polish off corned beef hash, a parrot

To laugh with, or at. Perhaps I’d go mad
with the responsibility of mezzanine flooring,
gearless pedestal turnings and of photo electric

cells sensing the daylight arriving, perhaps!
I’d leave just once that year, to collect fuel
from gnarled fingered fishermen, wise to

the capacity of break tanks and the like.
More to the point I’d maybe save some lives,
whilst reading endlessly.