Agnus Dei

Sweetly,
In the spring,
Before anyone noticed,
As the crocuses
were coming up,
With your usual smile.

*

In torrid July,
After a long struggle
Everything
Finally in place
Milkman paid off,
Flowers from you to all
From heaven.

*

In June
Cherries
Three-hued,
Apricots
Small, knubby;
Julys
Peaches, marbled
Within, in the colours
Gone before.

Meanwhile
Vines ripen
And sun bakes
The scorched earth.

Downpour
Sluices ruts and
Casts skys
Blueness afar.