The fresnel lens at Pemaquid Point Lighthouse.

Peering from the lighthouse deck,
the ocean stretches like a sheet
for a bed with edges
_____________that no toes
_____________can overhang—
green grass & crags
trap thin layers of sand between
the sharp sloping shore and sea;

millennia of subduction pinstriped
the metamorphic rock fashionable,
igneous collisions,
_____________& layered granite
_____________slabs—unsliced
kitchen counters—
with the white surf breaking over &
eroding layers of their petrified skin.

Consider this map—the coastal
nomenclature & faux boundaries,
titles that nature
_____________never intended:
_____________St. George River
inscribed over
wild blueberry jam & stone hues
like an ebbing patchwork quilt;

& this one fresnel lens illuminates
just a jetty, bay, & Atlantic swatch,
so when the ocean
_____________spreads, ripples
_____________like a bed sheet
hung over our head,
you ponder the possibility of losing
your self in a sleep so deep & wide.