Handcrafted afternoon 
dedicated to constructing 
a lighthouse from soil pots. 
Painting colors on material, 
catching smiles like butterflies, 
whispering the afternoon 
away until the sun 
can barely catch us,
yet we continue to catch up, 
never knowing enough of one another. 

Time taken correcting the mistakes made 
as the paint dries, 
offering ideas on how 
to make something beautiful 
from a twitch in the wrist;
knowing how it all turns out — 
as marvelous as anticipated.

Carving a hole large enough 
for a light fixture on the smallest of the pots,
signaling shore, almost home,
almost to land;
telling me I am home
when crafting an afternoon,
with her,
to an evening.


One thought on “Lighthouse

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