The Cape Schanck lighthouse is still full of ghosts
of keepers passengers and sailors who died on this coast
as white as the thick walls through which they keen
they swirl through the tower only glimpsed never seen
forever unsettled by tragedy at the mercy of storms
restless air is chilled by their cold empty forms
even when the wind is warm and the wide strait is calm
they struggle with their violent cruel death and its legacy of harm
remembering loved ones left behind who grieved at the cost
ghosts grieve for futures never had to the sea that were lost

today's lively visitors to the lighthouse one and all
never leave without hearing a whisper or a ghostly call
when they climb the spiral steps to look at the view 
they hold loved ones closer against a chill as if they knew
each of the ghost stories from each deep watery grave
all stop a sad shivered moment with the souls never saved
then they return to their homes families and friends
departing a ghastly lighthouse dance that never ends

My response to The Skeptic’s Kaddish W3 prompt. Make sure you read Dennis Johnstone’s and Nancy Richy’s two wonderful poems included.