Here is an old poem that hasn’t seen the light of day for quite awhile. It was the winner of the Salt Lake City Weekly Poetry Contest. Its a poem I wrote about the Great Salt Lake and Saltair Resort.
Driving along an endless flat
I look for my mineral sea
and her gunmetal waters –
there where the azure mirrored
sky rides foamy waves
and where sudden angry
storms turn glass calm
in a moment. I must be
close, a great blue heron.
Just beyond sight;
Water, Salt, and Flight.
Passing old rotted logs – Saltair – the resort of kings.
“Come rejuvenate yourself in the healing waters of the Great Salt Lake!”
Two gulls circle touching wingtips
waltzing to the faint music of Friday nights
1936 and the Wiley Clegg Orchestra.
I stop east of Tooele to walk to
get closer. Brine flies and mosquitoes,
the sulfuric scent of my childhood.
I bend to touch your waters
Genuflecting holy water
The setting sun lifts up the lake’s edge and
a thousand great blue herons escape.
I drive towards the city
and taste salt
that has found my wounds.