The heat makes wrinkles in the air
Above the pavement in the city
So the bold ones flock around the fountain
To catch a splash as the water cascades down
The clouds have long ago escaped the sky
Though the air has a weight to it
That makes breathing hard for those who walk
To work, to shop, or just for the exercise.
Some of the older folk sit on their front steps
Fanning themselves and watching everything
That goes on along their street
Never saying a word, such would be too much work
In the heat of mid-July.
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