This one's called "Preparations."
Dead sheep beside the highway, belly
burst open, guts and life unwinding on the sand.
The body is carefully attended.
Look at the long, black wings, the shining eyes.
Solemn and fat, the crows gather to make preparations.
Pull wool from skin, pick meat from bone, tendon from muscle.
Only a few more days, they say to each other.
A few more days, and this will be finished.
Bones, bones, let wind polish the bones.
It is done.