Was it just last week we passed along the street?
You, in habitual armor of gloves and hat, white,
reflecting back the sun. So often we'd meet
this way, passing across the road, amidst a flight
of errands, and would comment on the rain, the snow,
my umbrella-lack, incipient drops, or clear blue skies.
You and yours: the first to greet us after our slow
translocation here. Stalwart neighbor, useful to advise
on songbirds, gardens green, and shops near by.
'Twas just last week - but you went before July.