There Are the Rocks: #WritingwithWoolf #NationalPoetryMonth #NaPoWriMo2020

For National Poetry Month, I will be writing poems inspired by entries in Virginia Woolf’s Diary Volume Three: 1925-1930. For more ideas for designing an April writing or creativity challenge for yourself, see my post, Looking for an April Creativity Challenge?.

I am still working through VW’s very rich entry from Wednesday 8 April 1925. She and her husband have just returned from a vacation to Cassis in southern France:

I am waiting to see what form of itself Cassis will finally cast up in my mind. There are the rocks. We used to go out after breakfast & sit on the rocks, with the sun on us. L. used to sit without a hat, writing on his knee.

Day #2: There Are the Rocks

In New England, tending the land means tending stone.
The earth yields a bumper crop each spring,
The easy fields of fall once again rock full.

Granite floats, someone told me.
I tried to reconcile that massive heft
With cork, with apples bobbing in water.

Winter earth, placid and still,
Underneath, a turmoil of movement,
Invisibly heaving stone to surface.





7 responses to “There Are the Rocks: #WritingwithWoolf #NationalPoetryMonth #NaPoWriMo2020”

  1. Wondering and Wandering Avatar

    Oh, we really are cut from the same cloth. I’m oddly obsessed with stone walls and have been photographing them on our daily afternoon COVID walks. They are abundant in this part of Colonial New England. I often wonder about who has “tended” to them throughout time. This is a lovely poem.

    1. Elisabeth Ellington Avatar

      I went down quite the Internet rabbit hole researching granite and New England stone walls for this poem. Three pages of notes in my notebook, LOL–very little of which ultimately made it into the poem. But I was fascinated by all I found out.

      1. Wondering and Wandering Avatar

        I walked down an old no-longer-used Colonial road yesterday with a double stone wall still intact on either side. Thought of you.

  2. margaretsmn Avatar

    Wonderful imagery in this poem. I love this “Underneath, a turmoil of movement,
    Invisibly heaving stone to surface.” That word heaving takes my breath away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: