I'd brush the summer by

       A patch of September sun
               caught me by surprise in the middle of the day.
           It poured over my arms like warm syrup,
        dripping into my pores and seeping through my veins.
           I smiled,
             pulled my legs up onto the chest I sat on
       let the rays caress my bare feet, too.
   It was a shocking blessing,
                like an unexpected but welcome kiss,
                     like a puppy tackle,
                 like the perfect cup of tea.
     The September sun
             warmed my bones,
                   cupped my feet,
                embraced my arms,
         clasped me to its chest and rocked me there.
   I closed my eyes
                 and tasted it on my tongue.
Somewhere, the leaves were reddening and crinkling to the ground.
         Snow was hushing the earth to sleep.
              Mosquitoes were being born. 
     But just for the moment,
            I curled, content and purring as a cat,
                   and tilted my face up
       and let the September sun
                               hold me.