Brass lamp swings on the bulkhead wall
Tugboat beam paints the window tall
Salt crust clings to the ceramic rim
Night tide hums a steady hymn
Tugboat light on my kitchen wall
Kettle steam rises slow and tall
Sweep the glass with a golden blade
Memory drinks the tea I made
Iron stove breathes a coal red glow
Logbook rests where the charts used to go
Fingers trace the worn oak grain
Tugboat horn calls through the rain
Porcelain cup holds the bitter brew
Light sweeps the floor in a slow debut
Rope coils sleep in the corner stack
Keeper watches the tide turn back
Tugboat light on my kitchen wall
Kettle steam rises slow and tall
Sweep the glass with a golden blade
Memory drinks the tea I made
No more lens to polish bright
No more stairs to climb at night
Just this chair and the tugboat sway
Kitchen warmth holds the dark at bay
Dawn paints the harbor a pale steel gray
Tugboat light slips with the break of day
Kettle whistles its final note
Keeper smiles at the empty boat
Tugboat light on my kitchen wall
Kettle steam rises slow and tall
Sweep the glass with a golden blade
Memory drinks the tea I made
Steam curls up, the light goes dim
Harbor sleeps, I stay with him
