Summer in Dubai
The golden sun rays
streaming through the curtains.
Scorching heat,
forty degrees at nine in the morning,
water in the taps piping hot,
vapor from the garden grass
as the gardener waters garden,
dried burned leaves,
and twigs upon the branches,
not a bird in sight,
for the birdbath is dried,
the sands shine like gold dust,
while oasis is like an empty nest.
No people walking on roads,
the heat from the tar
can burn the toes.
Cars are driven slowly
for the tyre burst
due to heat on the road.
That's summer for us here in Dubai.
👁 18💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.