In the Courtyard

I never anticipated
needing to explain a lighthouse
that it was not, unfortunately,
a little house on the seaside
where the light lived–

or the injustice of ocean,
its largeness
held up like a child’s hand
to our comparative small
with little to no concern
as to whether or not
this made us respect it more

or whether we would not have preferred it
the other way:
inquisitive youngest child
sharing with Light its toys
on the gentler shores of Rockaway,
bedraggled oldest sibling
tottering wordlessly behind.


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