Flying above Utah’s Great Salt Lake
I take a snapshot, a patchwork
of crystalline crackers, candy pink patches,
a malted salt-crusted geometry unwitnessed
by fellow passengers, heads lolling,
their shades pulled down against the light.
I want our aerial theater to hover here,
I want the pilot’s radio voice snapping the nappers awake
to look at the drought-dried spectacle below
like they used to in the old days
when we’d pass over a pristine natural wonder.
