Cider

In from the first
Chill of autumn
A cup of hot cider
Welcomes me.

The steam smells
Of apple cinnamon;
Wrapping my fingers
Around smooth glass
Warms my fingers.
It feels like
My childhood--
And tastes like home.

The first sip
Scalds my throat
But it warms me
From the inside
Out from the first
Chill of autumn.