(D. L. Bliss State Park, Lake Tahoe)

As we take the granite steps,
slowly, slowly, we see the top
of the upper rock,

tons of granite resting
precariously on a slender
stone base, we two older,

far less sure-footed beings,
mindful of our own balance,
which grows more precarious

by the year. We feel ourselves
decomposing like the granite
crumbling beneath us

as we climb to the viewpoint
to see two boulders, the top
one leaning at what seems

an impossible angle on
two stubby feet, a crack
of daylight between them.

Though they’ve stood
conjoined for thousands
of years, it’s only a matter

of time before erosion wears
away the equilibrium between
the two, crashing the top-heavy

partner into the other. But we,
the only humans in sight, remain
for now upright and awed

at such a geological balancing
act that it takes what feels
like eons to realize just

how much it is like our own.