Unknown Carrion rested in peace
alongside the road in a hot Mojave sun.
A lone vulture circled
searching for his last meal
with pedantic possibilities.
Carmen played her guitar singing a lugubrious song
of desparate lands where sage grows for Shaman’s wands.
Rain did not come.
Rivers did not flow.
A tarantula hid under her rock in cool shade.
The Blue Bus was leaving.
Carmen finished her song.
The vulture had left alone.