Damp envelope lies on oak shelf
Salt water stains the folded edge
My hands know well the brine's own self
Each crease holds fast a storm's last pledge
Wet envelope wears salt and gray
It rests where no tide climbs
Black ink holds fast the storm's own way
Safe in these archive lines
The paper drinks the cellar damp
Salt breath rises from the stamp
Words blur soft as fog on glass
Meaning holds beneath the mass
Wet envelope wears salt and gray
It rests where no tide climbs
Black ink holds fast the storm's own way
Safe in these archive lines
I read by touch not lantern light
Fingers trace the swollen script
Each letter worn by wave and night
Still speaks clear though paper ripped
Wet envelope wears salt and gray
It rests where no tide climbs
Black ink holds fast the storm's own way
Safe in these archive lines
Tower lens caught fire from the sea
Salt wind wrote this letter to me
Basement quiet reads the mail
Keeper watches does not fail
Years of beam and crashing wave
Taught me how to save the light
Now I guard what the ink gave
Words that lived through storm and night
Archive shelf holds dry and deep
The letter rests in wooden care
No storm can wake it from this sleep
Its message safe from wind and air
Wet envelope wears salt and gray
It rests where no tide climbs
Black ink holds fast the storm's own way
Safe in
