Great Salt Lake

Above the slick waters

I spy the islands

brown, where they should be green,

barren, where there should be life.

Water is cool, soothing.

It brings rejoicing to small children

on hot days.

But this water is different;

still

accumulating the crystalline outpourings

of the mountains.

We can, if we wish, swim,

we will float quickly and easily

and take pleasure in scarlet ribbons of sunset

in the western sky.

And so, it is, when I have looked down

on the great sea in the setting sun.

I know that familiar lustrous body does not refresh

that it cannot feed the islands

or slake thirst.

It is unsettling that the familiar

is an illusion,

expected comforts

slip away as we spit out

the acrid water.

But yet, there is promise,

for those who will grasp it

For when we approach the shore with courage

we are borne upon the waters

with ease.