By Linda Manning
Out on the desert alone and lost.
The devil has come to collect his cost.
Surrounded by sagebrush and cactus in bloom.
I know that I now face my doom.
My horse is dead and my canteen is dry.
Buzzards are waiting on me close by.
A rattlesnake is buzzing near my head.
When morning comes, I’ll be dead.
My skin is parched and I’m half blind.
As the sun is unmerciful and unkind.
It has dried up the waterhole I’m laying beside.
And I’m too weak to go on, even if I tried.
My last thoughts will be of the life I had.
Until the lure of gold turned me bad.
Now the sun is sinking low in the sky.
It’s the last thing I’ll see before I die.
They’ll know I died of greedy lust.
When they find my rotten bag of gold dust.
Or, maybe they’ll never find my sun-bleached bones.
Out her amid the sun and desert stones.
Englewood, Colorado 9/10/1968
