Summerfrost

[First drafted in September, lest we forget there was a summer not long ago]

You could peel the skin right off
This gone and wrinkled summer
Crossed with an early touch of cloudless cold
That pulls the flesh in close
From its sun-stretched skin

The waters are drawn down
Stored away low and tight
Far from wind-whistled cracks
Leaving the swollen sugars
Of a long hot summer
Clinging sticky under the surface
Waiting for that first frost kiss

Waiting for it
To get in deep and turn it bad
Stinking like nutmegs, wet and bitter
That you smell all the way up in your eyes
Drawn in, dried out and bittersweet
Like the whole world's a last-call come-on
'Eat me up, before I go wrong'