CLANK OF GEAR

Dry weeds heel & twist
In a breeze sprung from nowhere
The man's hanging dead from his rope
Staring eyeless at the naked sky
Standing trembling in the warm dusk air
With his eyes as black as gunbores
Pouring tears & flaming with pain
The boy's wondering why things end
In confusion & hate & curses & blood

As far as the eye can see
Dust is blowing down the void
Like the smoke of distant armies
In the running rumble
Of moving thunder

When lightning flares & thunder cracks
The boy rides downcountry
In a dull thump of hooves
& a weird clank of gear
Here's another lost orphan
On the barren dusty plain
& a long ways from home