Brass lamp wicks trimmed at dawn
Salt crust thick on window panes
Ferry horn cuts morning fog
Deck boots thud on metal grates
Log book entries fade to gray
Storm glass sits on pine shelf
Weeds climb high past rusted chain
Workshop roof drinks summer rain
No one tends the wild behind
But the rhythm keeps its time
Salt and rust on everything
Coil rope fast on splintered cleat
Hear the briar scratch tin walls
Engines throb below my feet
Green things push through cracked concrete
Gangway rattles in the swell
Pollen dusts my oilskin coat
Tide turns slow then pulls away
Nothing stays beneath the keel
Hammers rest on oil-stained wood
Paint has peeled on western wall
Fresnel lens catches first light
Prism shards paint floorboards gold
Weeds climb high past rusted chain
Workshop roof drinks summer rain
No one tends the wild behind
But the rhythm keeps its time
Salt and rust on everything
Two lives measured different ways
Same salt in the air we breathe
One watches from the tower top
One walks the deck as dock lines sing
Shift ends when the gulls cry low
Footsteps trace the gravel path
Lantern swings from keeper's hook
Light still cuts the harbor dark
Workshop door hangs on one hinge
Morning glories choke the latch
Weeds climb high past rusted chain
Workshop roof drinks summer rain
No one tends the wild behind
But the rhythm keeps its time
Salt and rust on everything
Brass lamp wicks trimmed at dawn
Salt crust thick on window panes
Harmonium fades on last chord
