I wait,
politely bored.
The Sun stretches its\' grasp
across the cracked ground
for the thousandth time.
It stops when it finds no leaf
to burn itself onto.
I sit quietly on the side.
It hasn\'t rained in some time now.
Maybe a week,
or month.
I search my memory in vain
and stop when it turns futile.
It\'s too hot to think.
The Sun has reached its\' peak now,
there\'s not a crevice it cannot see.
The ground lies limp
as another crack echoes through the air.
It doesn\'t try to hide
from the scorching eye.
It\'s too hot for that.
I sit
and follow the Sun with my eyes.
It leaves holes in my vision
and burns holes through my mind
but I don\'t look away.
It\'s the only thing I remember
and the familiarity feels stronger
than its\' effects.
It\'s too hot.
I finish up the ritual
as the Sun shifts it\'s gaze
to further grounds
and blink for the first time.
It\'s been X years and X months
and I\'m still waiting on the rain.
My gaze never falters,
and my body never changes its appointed position.
I sit for eternity,
as the sand carves patterns in my skin
and the Sun torches them off,
leaving me blank,
unchanged.
I sit
and wait for the rain
that never comes.
The Sun rises
stretching it\'s grasp
across the cracked ground,
and I watch it blankly
for the thousandth time.
It\'s too hot.
©the_cat_in_the_hat