Dancing Lighthouses

Twilight sets upon suburban streets,

the wind is gentle in the tops of trees,

just above the grass, the light show begins,

a pulsing glow of many, in yellow-greenish.

Dancing Lighthouses moving in air,

calling to lightless ships, I am here;

promising a safe harbor for sure,

signaling distant ladies to port.

As the night draws over,

and the umbra sets in,

the ships move closer,

and the Lighthouses darken.

Hearken the silence;

next generation in progress...

-M.E.

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(image credited to emaze.com)