Trophy Hunter

One the hottest day
You might find
A cold
Detached shadow
Grinning across
The broken hearts
Of innocent women
In my desert
Lining the trail like
Scattered bones

Removed from
the reach of the dead
And waiting
For another to freeze in
Hell's headlights

While the rest of time
It sits in plain sight
Like a yield sign
On an open road
Unable to weather
The elements
And bullet holes