Fine Grains

Sand.
Remnants of mountains
ground from cold heights,
carried far in ancient ice
to wash away in summers
that finally returned.
Left in hollows dug
by footprints of retreat,
laid as beds where shells
would rest and hide, until
eras of evaporation
returned to dry the land.

Glitters under sunlight
to attract creation's eye,
then scooped and cauterized
to smooth liquid, over fire.

Slow-cooled and shaped
as beads and small bowls.
Tinted panels became art,
then mirrors with silver backs,
and glazes for seeing outside.
Bowls turned to mugs, with
handles for grip and to tip.
Vessels for fine malted grains
blended in bittersweet hops.
wide rims for rich foam deposits
on wet lips of smiling good cheer.
Skoal!