A lighthouse stands,
sentinel to the Great Erie.
A beacon bright, glowing at night,
to the wayfarers adrift on the cold chop.
It signals distance.
It offers direction.
It provides solace.

Shining out across the mighty waters:
the Niagara River to the North
where it spills in a cascade of thunder,
to Fort Erie on the Canadian side,
over the vastness, a dim glimmer
to the West toward Toledo,
diametrically opposed, bookends.

Sailboats swing by to visit,
and raise a friendly hand,
half in greeting, half in stoic salute,
totally in agreement that the beauty
of her silhouette against the declining horizon
expresses her import to all who navigate
in her harbor. All is well. Shine on  Buffalo Beacon.

Walt                                                                                                     Photo by Walt Wojtanik


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