Today looks the same as a day in July: The heat-waves still rise toward the sun-tortured sky; Continuing rains Have the grass showing gains, And the shade of the trees still invites passersby.
But the once-graceful willow is starting to sag; And the jumps of the sleepy old grasshopper lag. Although subtle and still, You can hear, if you will, The steps of the heat-weary summertime drag.