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.
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