Once at Antelope Island State Park
On a December morning,
On the shores of the Great Salt Lake,
I felt the biting cold of winter,
Smelled the salt of the inland ocean,
Saw the still glass of large water,
The skyline of the Wasatch Front,
And the high mountains of the Wasatch Range.
I saw magnificent vistas:
Of water and ice and snow,
And sky and mountain and space.
I heard the sound of shorebirds.
And all was gold and right.
Written in January 2020.
On a December morning,
On the shores of the Great Salt Lake,
I felt the biting cold of winter,
Smelled the salt of the inland ocean,
Saw the still glass of large water,
The skyline of the Wasatch Front,
And the high mountains of the Wasatch Range.
I saw magnificent vistas:
Of water and ice and snow,
And sky and mountain and space.
I heard the sound of shorebirds.
And all was gold and right.
Written in January 2020.