September Sweat
In the thin red months,

between the cool condensation
on the outside of a pitcher
hot drips, lemon wedges, barbecue air

and bundled fire moments
strung-light nights, red-nosed
hot-cider fueled, short days

hang the sultry autumn days.

They pride themselves on slow-death
the wilting of sun-baked promises
and the springing up of cuffing season

adding of layers, scarfs and distance
contemplated love letters, dried flower stems
a change in the wind, on the tongue

                       

salted, warm and wanting, they’ll linger.