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.