Thanksgiving in Kindergarten <i>Salt Lake City, Utah, 1996</i>

We grew up in a city named for water we could not drink.Our ancestors walked miles to finda home that would burn so easily,then stumbled on salt, which meant preservation.In 1996 Westbrook Elementarypast neighborhood dogs Loboand Lamanite music spilling from one-car garages,brass trumpeting the asphalt.When teacher gave us feathers wear Thanksgiving,I didn't know about Mountain Meadows Massacre,or Mormon militias marching, meaning baptizeShoshone lands with salt of earth.My father taught me keepmy hands open, facing sky, expecting light.He collected miracles like shellsand placed them at my feet.I yetthis land was holy before arrived.I know—water couldn't drink still cleanse.A burning bush without prophet heal.