The floating clouds are merciless with teasing hints of rain.
They blossom like chrisanthemums and sing the same refrain:

"There's moisture in our puffy holds. We'll send it earhward bound.
But the drops dissolve like salty tears before they hit the ground."

They move across the bright blue sky and leave us wilted still.
Oh AUTUMN ... where art thou? This heat's a bitter pill.