Off the coast a great protector standing alone,
Its true value really known by sailors alone.
Its beacon sweeping the waves, warning of sharp rocks
Once occupied by an alert keeper alone.
Now automated, controlled from somewhere on shore;
Inside empty stairways and rooms feel so alone.
When first sighted from a distance spirits rise up,
The welcoming light signalling never alone.
And I on a winter night staring out to sea
Give thanks for the great lighthouse that watches alone.
A condemned church no longer safe standing alone,
Doors bolted, perimeter fenced, waiting alone
To know its fate, destruction or renovation;
Former worshippers pause outside feeling alone,
Contemplating choking weeds and cracking stone walls,
Praying for the salvation that is God’s alone
To give and to take away, hasten or delay;
Then let his will be done they say and his alone;
And I also excluded wait impatiently
For his intervention, seeking justice alone.
David Subacchi lives in Wales where he was born of Italian roots. He studied at the University of Liverpool and he has 4 published collections of his English Language poetry First Cut (2012), Hiding in Shadows (2014), Not Really a Stranger (2016) and A Terrible Beauty (2016). His work has also appeared in many literary magazines and anthologies worldwide.
You can find out more about David and his work at