Smithereens Press Chapbooks SP14 - The Lighthouses by Daragh Breen | Page 12

The storm-thawed light is the same distilled light
as that of the travelling cinemas
that once came through here,
a sheet hung against the damp wall of a hall
by representatives of the Lumière Brothers,
Magi of the Second Coming of Light,
breaking an egg-shape of white against a screen
that began to leak human shadows.
This is where the ghosts come ashore,
peeling the noise of gulls
from their tired bodies like sleep,
trailing tide-lines of salt
along the winter beaches
in their wake.

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