One Last Strand

days spent flayed and splayed ankles and wrists roped to horses pulling in opposing directions in the umbra of my ailing dreams aimless wraiths on boundless plains drifting like tumbleweeds toward the sinking sun thunderheads towerin’ over the shrouded west one last strand of twilight before the dusk descends countless hours spent scratching around for bits with a brighter shine entombed in arid ground these plains are one big cemetery a bone orchard without crosses endlessly expanding toward the sinking sun thunderheads towerin’ over the shrouded west one last strand of twilight before the dusk descends badlands ahead every way through meets the same end a cacophony crows cawing coyotes yip-howling across an unknown distance a cortège of dimming visions soon all will dissolve into the sunless horizon trailing those apparitions the brisk winds whistlin’ through a cracked longhorn skull last few teeth chatterin’ barrelin’ toward the west where fool’s gold glistens over peaks and through deepening ravines darkness will spread like crude oil until my breath’s wrested from me the full moon’s blaze providing lucid sight observing every burnished bit that will endure long after I die