Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save–
they just stand there shining.   
~Anne Lamott

The ferry from Digby to St. John
moved through fog so thick
that all the metaphors applied.

When we slid into the midnight harbor,
no sound but the deep horn and the bells,
nothing visible beyond the circle of our selves
but a blurred path of light.

Solitary, tall and white it stands.
All night, and every stormy day
it flashes one clear message:
Keep away, keep away, keep away.

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