Foghorn Operator

Far out, in his high headland station,

the operator waits for conditions to

run the engines that soundmark

the outline of an obscured coast.

While skies are clear and visibility allows

ships on the horizon to vanish in thin air,

he walks around quietly with an oil can,

a tuft of cotton and a 2B pencil stub.

Next to his log, is the small notebook

that he fills with lines at intervals;

signals that define his world in a flow

of sound and silence.

Its rhythms create waves that

break and tumble until his words

fit in to carry him through the fog

without running aground.