I wanted to go to the qabarstan with a sandwich and have a picnic.
How people do.
Instead of just going and saying prayers.
But it rained hard and I had to run for the car.
Why do people run for the car? What do we think is going to happen?
It is not as if we are going to die.
We are all going to die.
When I go to the qabarstan I always lose my place and can’t find the grave.
For the briefest of uncanny moments it feels like you are not dead.
You are not dead.
Copyright © 2026 by Kazim Ali. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 25, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.
