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Poem #8 1787 - 1998
Echo from the Past,
I hear you.
Perched precariously,
clinging to life and rock.
Your horn bemoans
the vile cataclysm
that is simultaneously
Our Salvation
Their Demise
Echo back the Lightkeeper's
Effort,
over two hundred-fifty years.
Bombed, windblown, blasted,
they did not relent
in their life-keeping task.
Now auto-
mated, their valour is past.
Put your hand against the placquard,
Let feeling flow through you.
Give the life-keepers
Their reprise.
By Chris 100600
Two commemorative plaques to be found at the South Light:
