Signed by Your Kiss

We came too late, we found the trees
bereft of leaves, the birds were mute,
there was no answer to our pleas,
we stood beneath a vine whose fruit

littered the ground, the sun’s pale eye
fattened no flocks, a strong barred gate
stood in our way—I heard you sigh
as if you guessed who made us wait.

To shame the lock, you turned your face
to mine, and faith signed by your kiss
defied the chill of the troubled place,
led us away on a path from this

withering season and let us pass
into the memory of summer’s day
where only the wind high over the grass
spied on the trespass where we lay,

and strung love’s purple clover bells
across a valley wedged in June,
far from the croak of toads in wells,
to the peak of light of sun at noon.