Rough white appendages
Pale quartz strewn
In a heaped line
Only a fleeting glance
Chased by bone-dry grasses
That mask the face of
Golden brown
Sun baked stones
They flee behind us
Framed perfectly
For a single moment
By sweaty glass
And standard gray steel
As it barely contains
The cackling babble
Of trapped teenagers
As it bounces around inside the bus
It vibrates off the windows And pale green metal
A young man in a red T-shirt
Blazoned with bible verses
Dances his hands across a drum
He closes his eyes in concentration
As a beat plays through him