Fog drapes the pier in heavy grey
He sets his box on splintered wood
The tide rolls in to hide the day
He pulls his kit from where it stood
Fog drapes the pier in heavy grey
He sets his box on splintered wood
The tide rolls in to hide the day
He pulls his kit from where it stood
Brush strokes circle round and round
Salt and leather turned around
He polishes the dark away
To catch the light on sole of bay
Awl pushes through the stiffened hide
Thread of flax pulled tight and wide
A gull cries out above the mast
The moment holds built slow to last
Brush strokes circle round and round
Salt and leather turned around
He polishes the dark away
To catch the light on sole of bay
The keeper kept the lamp for years
This cobbler mends what walks the earth
He watched the beam cut through the night
He brings the dark back into light
Brush strokes circle round and round
Salt and leather turned around
He polishes the dark away
To catch the light on sole of bay
No clock to punch no whistle blow
Just rhythm in the hand he knows
The city sleeps on cable lines
While he stitches stars and signs
Last coat shines on the finished pair
Bre
