Breasts of the jungle

The breasts of the jungle find no prey. They wait beside the usual footpaths but nobody wanders by. They overlook familiar watering holes but the holes are dry and nobody comes to even look. They jiggle, they shake, but nobody cares. No four-legged creature, no two-legged creature, none, if it survives elsewhere, ventures anywhere new, and all the local creatures have long ago been eaten. Even their own offspring have long ago been weaned and have left to find jungles of their own.