his rustic way the easy as they come grin the soft shine in a hard land had a gift in his brotherly manner it was vulture's way the name didn't fit the man but few do he was a kind soul always had time to mend fences had time to build bridges and the boy could dance look at him go in the firelight while the music sang softly always thought he was most at home sharing a meal and the comforts of conversation few knew him as well as I spent years chasing dawns early light with my friend laughing and carrying on like two kids it was vulture's way last time ever laid eyes on him he was laughing and talking with some fine young girl just as natural as can be a true hippie relaxed and at ease with the world he died later that spring but to me he will always be alive in summer breeze and moonlight watch him dance and shake thous old bones my good friend will always be there in every smile i ever see