Rock of Ages

When you sit on my porch you’re really sitting with Rock.

A long time ago, a retreating glacier left a huge rock in my front yard.

When you sit on my porch you’re really sitting with Rock. In summer, soft green lichen covers its top. In winter it stands above the snowline, and kids like to climb upon it playing king of the mountain. 

For all I know,  Rock goes deep into the earth, possibly emerging in China…*

A long time ago, Cape Cod was born of retreating ice. Before the trees, the road, and the house, the rock was there, and after all of today’s uncertainties, the rock will still be there.

We live atop a scene of ancient devastation.

Like the sky above and the ocean that surrounds the Cape, Rock sits in mute testament to endurance.

The sky and the ocean.

Does Rock remember? Perhaps.  Do we remember? Absolutely.

Low tide reveals ancient glacial rocks on a Cape Cod beach.

To sit with rock is to remember the long game, the endless bend and stretch of time. Rock is of the eons and surely full of stories. We are of this moment, and also full of stories, and we share with Rock this capacity to endure. 


Read Rock’s whole story in Moon Tide: Cape Cod Poems.

*Excerpts are from the poem Rock in Moon Tide: Cape Cod Poems