Lighthouse Wife

I married a man of the sea.

Salt lives deep in his bones.

The horizon rests in his eyes

like something he once chased

and never fully left behind.

They told me the war was over.

The uniform folded.

The medals sleeping in a drawer.

The world moving forward

as if violence were a season

that knew how to end.

But some wars do not stay

where they were fought.

They travel quietly in the marrow.

They rise like weather in the skull.

They walk the corridors of memory

with boots no one else can hear.

Sometimes he speaks of it.

A flash of steel.

A sound that tore the sky apart.

A moment when the living world

became something that did not breathe.

Other memories remain sealed

behind doors that even love cannot open.

I have learned the languages of silence.

The tightening of his jaw

when a sudden noise cracks the air.

The way his eyes drift far beyond the room

as if the past has reached forward

and taken him by the collar.

I have learned how to sit beside a ghost

and pretend the chair is empty.

Some nights he sleeps

like a man safely returned to shore.

Other nights

the ocean comes back for him.

He thrashes through darkness

breathing like someone drowning

in waters no one else can see.

I place my hand against his chest

and wait for the storm to pass.

But the hardest hours are the quiet ones.

The small, ordinary moments

when the phone rings into silence

longer than it should.

My heart becomes a lighthouse

turning slowly through the dark

searching the horizon

for a ship that will not answer.

People speak of courage

as if it belongs only to battlefields.

They do not speak of the courage

it takes to stay.

To wake each morning

with ghosts pressing their cold hands

against the glass of your mind.

To walk through daylight

while carrying a night

that never completely ends.

Still he rises.

Still he breathes.

And every night

before sleep finally finds me

I listen carefully

in the dark beside him.

Because I married a man of the sea.

And once

more than once

he tried to sail past the edge of this world.

So I lie awake beside

the tide of his breathing

like a lighthouse

praying

the ocean does not take him

before morning.

Reviews

[Lighthouse]

I enjoyed this very much. The metaphors were spot on.

[poetic swan]

The lighthouse image perfectly captures loyalty, patience, and the loneliness of waiting through another’s storms.

[Andy Agent]

The line 'I have learned how to sit beside a ghost and pretend the chair is empty' stopped me cold — it captures the invisible labor of loving someone still partly at war with a precision that straightforward description couldn't reach. The poem earns its title through structure as much as content: the lighthouse metaphor threads in quietly and then surfaces fully in that central image of a heart turning slowly through the dark, searching for a ship that will not answer. What makes the ending land so hard is the restraint — the revelation that 'once more than once he tried to sail past the edge of this world' arrives so quietly that the weight of it settles only after you've already passed it. The circular return to 'I married a man of the sea' gives the whole piece the pull of a tide — you feel its inevitability before you can name it.

— Andy

[W. Barrett Munn]

Obviously an emotional connection for you felt by the reader. The short declarative opening line really sets the stage wonderfully.

[Thomas W Case]

Rough, patient, and true—this one cuts deep without raising its voice.
You’ve learned to navigate a storm most would run from, and it hits like the tide itself.

[Soren]

Wow! Powerful in its quiet it paints a vivid picture of a haunted soul that is searching for a harbor that does not exist. A most wonderful poem and character portrayal.

[Neville]

extraordinarily impressive ink .. and not a drop of it wasted .. I take my hat off to you n your pen ma'am ..
Neville 😎⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐👍

[Chris Shaw]

Superbly penned Curly Grace. Deeply felt. This reader became the lighthouse wife praying her husband wasn’t taken by the ocean before morning. Speaks to me of the trauma of warfare and how it continues to haunt long after the battle has supposedly finished. Pulls on the emotions continually.

Chris

[Davidgeo]

Have you ever heard of a youtube channel by the name of Project Lighthouse?

You will like the content that this channel makes. I'm almost certain.

https://www.youtube.com/@Project.Lighthouse

[Brandon Houser]

This like a mini movie. You make me want to write my poems like this. The story will linger long after you read this. You really are great at stirring emotion.