Glass Beach

On the other side of the hill

on the other side of the stars

there is a beach as

smooth as a windowpane.


Some of it is colored

red and yellow and green,

swirled bright or dripped

thick as from a brush.


Some of it is colorless.

Here, you can see

down beneath the glass –

the crust, the mantle, the core.


We stand at the edge and look in,

our bodies too dense to touch it.

Flies land deftly on its surface,

their thin legs vibrating gently.


The waves that lap at the beach

make tiny cuts that catch the fish

and turn them into scaled ribbons

before they’re pulled back out.


No one knows how far the glass goes, under the water.

Divers have seen bright patches of lava five kilometers out.

After that, everything goes dark

even the sea.