Silent Thirst

Brown leaves dance down on the crackling street,

watching my neighbor’s garden retreat.

Dust settles thick, where the life used to be,

cracked soil, like whispers, speaks softly to me.

The quiet is loud as the heat wraps the night,

in the stillness, I ponder how things lost their light.

The sun stares down, it forgets to relent,

breathing a silence too deep to lament.