Driving amidst the impoverished branches.
Water starved despondency.
Struggles evident in many a face,
Sacred ground for sociology.
People, homeless and asking for change.
Mothers and children cross hurriedly on signal.
Friday night, “pre-party” in young gazes.
Obstinate souls answering their own riddles.
Mountains blushing, close enough to touch,
Sun saying it’s goodbye in radiance.
Wispy clouds clutching daylight,
Hoping to remain visible and relevant.
What will be through the night,
Once daytime is no more?
Will the branches receive the fluids,
They need to help them grow?
Or will they become dry and brittle,
Breaking from life’s elements?
Submitting to offered toxins,
As to remain in a life of tepidness?