I live across from a toy light house
in memory of mariners lost wherever.
The light house keeper is a part-time guitarist,
who when the frost is gone,
plants tulips in the front porch
overlooking his garage.
And me? I'm the passing stranger,
30 years in the making
who drops by from time to time,
who may spend a summer painting seascapes
and has never made from one a dime.
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