And so I have done it again, ignoring the glaring neon warning as he ferried me across decades to the losses that anchor me to vacant spaces; the chain pulling taut with less and less give as flotsam and jetsam gather and entangle in its rusty links.
On shore, telegraph poles line up like dominos before the fall, the dialogue between my ghosts echoing down the wire; different faces, same conversation.
I bid farewell to thee and seek refuge on my island, for I am the lighthouse keeper.
Inspired by Sonya’s Three Line Tale Week Twenty Three.
Work in Progress 
Surrender to your fate…lighthouse keeper.
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I bid thee well oh keeper! 😉
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😊
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😉
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Wow! So beautiful! I love the poetic tone.
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Thanks so much 😊
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melancholy…(K)
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Yes.
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Romantic – the lure of the lighthouse, and thus, the sea 😉
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A lighthouse keeper’s life has always been a whimsical dream of mine. All that quiet, solitude, rugged simplicity and the view from the top…
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Totally came through — great job 😉
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Thanks 😊
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I ditto all these comments! Great post!
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Thanks so much Tammi. Appreciate your feedback as well as the spate of reading 🙂
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