Yet another sweat-hot August day,
I'm soaked-through, and heat-stressed,
Out on the streets, earning my pay,
But something is different,
And it causes me to rest,
Close my eyes, and listen through my skin,
To feel the small shift
From the season I'm in...
The breeze has changed to sultry, from steamy,
The Sun's angle lower, reflections less gleamy,
All caused by the tilt of the planet's spin...
Summer is slowing -- Burning itself out,
Until all that's left is the glowing embers
Called September.
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