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Testament
by Ed Bennett

Bury me in the desert
where time is not
nor roads, nor potted trees
nor any human handiwork
 
in the mountain dust
with the wind to carry
the nocturnal keen
from coyotes to walking spirits.
 
Bury me
naked and alone
with no stone but
the scoured mountains
 
where the Old Ones prayed,
and we transgressed
with a nation’s piety
driving over them;
 
my final atonement,
this cascade of my body
to it’s elements,
 
I will feed the dust
while a desert squirrel
salutes my rest
with a new found piñon.

 


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