Aak’ei Tsin, Changing Trees

are a reminder that ayóó nineez / extremely tall / ayóó nineez
&           nizhoní / beautiful / nizhoní
things                         holó / exist / holó           in this world.
Inked             gáagii / crow / gáagii branches, drowned mutters,
throwing beaks in the air, the níłchi / wind / níłchi,
like fingers that pull & point at the     yá / sky / yá.

In shimasaní’s backyard a line of cedar tsin / trees / tsin drops leaves at our bare feet.
I’ve never climbed a      dził / mountain / dził
but I’ve rolled over         hills & hills & hills, / dah yisk’id & dah yisk’id & dah yisk’id,
crawling like my uncle’s ATV, over my masaní’s charred
awoo’ / teeth / awoo’.
“Yáadiláh! Don’t be all rowdy,” is what she’d say.

I’ve stepped over shimá’s palm fissures, cracks in the   tsé / rock / tsé   that
mold into foot holes & ledges for climbing,
down, down, down / yaago, yaago, yaago
into her nailbeds tucked away like sleeping            ałchini / children / ałchini.

Yishááł / I’ve walked / yishááł
on shizhé’é’s wet clay spine, the kind that
late        Bini’ant’ááts’ózí / August / Bini’ant’ááts’ózí
rains & September
Red Valley floods tore through, touching shinalí’s      chizh / wooden / chizh corral,
eaten & chewed between decades of        béégaashí / cow / béégaashí    jaws.

I’ve swam in shinalí’s             sin / songs / sin,
sang in           Diné kéji / Navajo / Diné kéji,      patting my back,
rocking me to sleep with an itchy woven blanket.
But I kept one     anáá’ / eye / anáá’     peeled.
Nimaasí / potato / nimaasí   skin eyelids & cubed spam breakfasts over fall
                                  shándíín / sunlight / shándíín spreading      shadows
like landscapes, their     bits’íís / bodies / bits’íís
          become wide arching tsin trucks.
                              Ádóó shímasaní
                              dóó shimá
                              dóó shizhé’é
                              dóó shinalí
                         are reminders that extremely strong and knowing beings
                                                            holó / exist / holó in this world,
                                                            alongside the changing
                                                                    aak’ei tsin / autumn tree.
 

Source: Poetry (March 2025)