Broken Down Alone In a Desert

The sun had vanished, it was black as black, The air was crisper than ice. And the wire on the fence whispered a steady humming tune To hundreds of kangaroo mice. We’d broken down, in the middle of Australia, We were alone, my partner and I. At first it was serene, just sharing a wine, Under billions of stars in the sky. By morning it occurred, we desperately needed help, So we trudged about ten k to a track. We were spotted by an aboriginal tracker in denims, Riding with pride, on his horse back. He gave us some water, then left for a car, Later towing us to his quaint cottage shed. He looked over the engine, said we could stay, Saying if he hadn’t found us we’d surely be dead. The starter motor had broken, bus was in two days, So he lay a bed on the cold kitchen floor. And said to watch any of his hundreds of horror movies, This guy loved his blood, guts and gore. This guy lived alone, he knew how to survive, In this desert, he was fascinatingly unique. He fixed our car, we gratefully shook hands goodbye, But I can’t ever watch the movie Wolf Creek.