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This poem is taken from PN Review 41, Volume 11 Number 3, January - February 1985.

Poems Michael Cullup

THE LIGHTHOUSE

We must see the lighthouse,
Catherine and Thomas
Swinging backwards and forwards
On the creaking swing.
We must see the lighthouse,
My head resting on my back-pack,
The sun beating on my closed lids.
Your voice fades across the park.
You go looking for bread.

Returning, you say:
We must see the lighthouse.

Up, up, through the odd-scented bracken,
Through gorse,
Up sandy paths,
Up, up.
And there it is:
...


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