by Lynn Domina
Magnified, sand resembles mollusks, spiraled
turret shells, milky stones, a transparent
nautilus, the small bones
in my inner ear. Heated, sand melts
thickly into glass, liquid flowing so slowly its waves
won’t crest for centuries.
clear glass into teal, ultramarine, saffron,
this radiant emerald. The small square
feels solid between the artist’s fingers
as she centers it
in her mosaic, the flash of a woman’s scarf
brilliant against her brown skin
and the desert night.
Lynn Domina is the author of two collections of poetry, Corporal Works and Framed in Silence, and the editor of a collection of essays, Poets on the Psalms. Her more recent work appears or is forthcoming in The Southern Review, The Gettysburg Review, Kenyon Review, Saranac Review, and other periodicals. She is the creative writing editor of The Other Journal and currently lives in Marquette, Michigan, along the beautiful shore of Lake Superior.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy