Shipwreck Rock

I am one of them, of late, on these frosty fall mornings. Huddled together near the sea-hemmed edge of an ancient grove of evergreens, they, like me, are drawn to the massive boulder that juts out just above the jagged cliffs, to wait and hope.  Mourn and remember.

The brass plaque is ancient, as well.

I Pine For You And Balsam Too

As ancient as the trees, and oxidized green from time and a constant shower of salt spray.  Engraved in flowing script left over from a long forgotten era, the plaque has been attached to stone for so long it’s hard to imagine one ever existing without the other.  Just as it’s impossible to recall a time when there was no need to wait and hope, mourn and remember.

Nearly a week has passed, and still no word as to your fate.  I look out towards the ocean, and sense my own hope, once as solid as flesh and blood, beginning to seem less and less corporeal.

Like this gathering of us.

And I wonder if I’ll still be drawn to the rock beneath the evergreens, even after I’m gone.

3 thoughts on “Shipwreck Rock

    • What a wonderful comment, and comparison, too-thank you so, so much for that. I’ve seen “A Perfect Storm” twice now, and both times it has left me in such a state of awe over the fearsome power of the sea.

  1. I liked the entire story, especially the ending. It packed a punch!

    I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for those who wait for their seafaring loved ones. When I was young, my father loved to fish and we often went out into the ocean fishing. it’s a different world and you are more vulnerable than you’d think when you’re in it. We had some scary times, but fortunately made it back safely:~)

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