Bluestone Heights
In the Late Devonian
this place that I call home
lay at zero latitude; Equator.
Before the vast tectonic plates
settled in their current place,
my city’s global longitude
was at the locus of Peru.
Our Heights were once submerged below
an intercoastal sea. Its depths,
a muck and silted dead zone, left
no ancient fossil trace. Instead,
it formed the hard-pressed, layered bed
of Euclid Bluestone, Cleveland shale
that sandwiches our neighborhood.
This rock and shale beneath our feet,
was mined for sidewalks; and above,
capped the crenelated parapets
of all the old apartment houses
up Cedar Hill and down my street.
Tweet me your thoughts about our local geology, what you are doing on vacation or anything about life in Cleveland Heights #htspoetweet - or leave a comment after this poem.
During the nineteenth century, Heights settlers took intimately to special places. Lyrical names make this clear: Turkey Ridge, Heathen Ridge, Cedar Glen, Blue Rock Brook. During the twentieth century, we lost the intimacy and some places. Now is time to re-find the lost. There is much to discover in place painting, photography, poetry, and song. Kathleen's "Bluestone Heights" leads the way.
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