A Lighthouse on the Tallest Hill
There is a lighthouse on the tallest hill, but no sea for miles. Sometimes I go inside and climb the stairs and crank the machine, and there are little sparks and the lamp makes as if to turn more, but it’s stuck. It’s creaking. I start digging, and reading up on ships, and I think our houses are all things that used to be ships. I dig in the sand, and find the skeletons of big, shapeless things. They break when I try to lift them up. I think perhaps long ago this place was the bottom of the ocean.
Our lighthouse in Plymouth is on the land (though near the sea):
They moved it. I don’t know why.
Preparing for the sea to rise, probably. An architectural come-hither.