Early Freeze

The air sharp
With the scent of fall;

At dawn, roofs
White as a shroud,

But no frost yet
Upon the ground.

Behind the houses
Cloud towers billow,

Argosies
Looming high;

To the west,
Strata of a front,

As gray bars mar
A calm peach sky.

Tonight will freeze
Turning leaves,

And rain barrels ice
To glassy panes;

Winter dreams
Will fill my sleep,

While silent frost
Whitens the ways.