Favorite Words: Parched

Here's another word that delights me.  My oldest grandchild started talking early and has had an incredible vocabulary ever since she started.  But when a three year old tells you that she's parched, it stays with you.  It's been one of my very favorite words ever since.  Just found it again today in a poem from Room Enough for Love, by Ralph Fletcher:

Lost

We lay once beneath the clouds
but now I've lost the sky.

Youn handed me an ice-cold drink
and now my throat stays parched.

I ran my fingers through your hair
which cost mey sense of touch.

With you I watched my first sunrise --
that's how I lost the sun.