The lighthouse man doesn't want to know anyone
He sits in solitude
Staring at the swirling seas
Wandering up and down the endless stairs

Fingers and thumbs fat with muscles
Salted sweat on skin
Working on the light fixtures
No word he utters

No visitors today
None scheduled for tomorrow
Steam boils off the kettle
More tinned food in fine fettle

Time stands still here
No interruptions
He meditates on his soul
What there is, he controls

No knowledge he shares
Turning on the light
To ward off danger
To ward off strangers from his world