Desert Psalm, Poem, Nailah Shabataka

Desert Psalm

You are allowed to die in the desert You are given credence And a bucket Told to scrub the dirt off your fingernails before you lie in your casket You’ve never seen a flower look so harsh Sunburn look meaningful Your skin was born darkened This is your holy land You screech alongside vultures and coyotes This yankee might get her stripes you smile and gaze upwards, heat grazes your collarbones, tickling you You remember headlights, blinding stars in the desert There are empty coke bottles decorating your front porch Tiny army of Windchimes singing “there were people to love” You burn red and yellow underneath a midday sun a chameleon You still surprise yourself when you drive over 80 Or curse in front of your mother You remember being young you still are Remember when love was a thing untethered to mourning Remember what it felt like to smoke To stand in the river and ask more out of it full of life bored There was always another day to be

Nailah Shabataka