Preserving a Late Summer's Day

I want to store late summer’s air
densely soft, semi-sweetish
ripening hay, wild grape vapors
evening effusions of nicotiana
for reclamation in cold January.

I want to store late summer’s sounds
its deafening insect chorus
bee brigades, cicadas’ chatter
tree crickets trilling with katydids
for reprise in quiet January.

I want to store late summer’s flowers
willowy cosmos, garish zinnias
dependably blooming petunias
pushy phlox, azure morning glories
for rejoicing in drab January.

I want to store late summer’s garden
flush with ears of corn’s sweet flesh
crispy beans, foot-long squash
tomatoes bursting through their skins
for relishing in bland January.

Then greedily licking my fingers
while dipping into the winter hoard
of backyard hive honey
and homegrown raspberry jam
I can savor summer in January.