In the Presence of the Lighthouse

by Andrea Turner

blaze      darkness    gleam absence

This globe is glass, ocean-grey, heavy in my palm,
in my other hand - candyfloss, rain, seagull jeers.
I lean into the north wind spreading my arms.
 
absence    blaze       darkness    gleam

On my knees scabs swell like rock pools
clotted with sea anemones. This lens magnifies,
seeds beams in the marram grass.

gleam absence    blaze       darkness

Seal-song moans from lampblack rocks
I walk on kelp-slippered feet
crouch by a web of sea foam and dig.

darkness    gleam absence   blaze

Her beacon stop-frames my shape
my hands are a sluice box sifting,
I have eyes on my fingertips, pockets full of jewels
 
blaze      darkness    gleam absence