All Over Except the Equinox

Only August ceases to be so inconspicuously.
It works on the mind until we’re careless
In sunshine, tanned and dazed
As we unwind lackadaisically.

How did it end again?
The infrequent breeze gave
Such slight respite from the heat.

But red-faced, I see that despite its subtlety
An unperceived inertia pushed enough
To turn the calendar page.