When North first proposed,
West was taken aback
Questions filled her up like
a new creek after the big rain
Was this a storm in the night
a mysterious blessing
or just my imagination?
Both thrill and worry were ants
climbing up and down
her love-drift spine.
Will I lose myself?
On the one hand,
they had a lot in common—
they both were committed
and deeply rooted
and had a lot of mutual friends
On the other, they were very different seasons—
North was a Winter Man,
used to getting people through a tough time
and could be no-nonsense sorta guy
and she, well, she was an Autumn girl
collector of colors and nuts
and crimson leaves and twigs in her hair
was her idea of a fun afternoon
and all he ever wanted to do
was drop them to the ground
And yes, North is handsome and wise,
and the needle always points his way
but…
…all the what ifs
kept buzzing through her night-time bones
Would we be like two blue dragonflies
flirting together above the water
or co-dependent like mistletoes
strangling each other’s tree?
I speak freely now,
but without North’s deep connections,
who will hear me?
I can do what I want now,
but how can I find the summer of true love
by nightly descending into the bedchambers
of the Western sun?
And what house could be large enough to hold us both?
I need a big sky and a basement to match.
My habits are sacred!
I need the moon and shadows!
And then suddenly, with a gentle eastern breeze
Spring arrived all lit and innocent
offering her beautiful mansion.
Come live in me, she said,
and when my brother summer arrives from the South,
we can travel to the mountains together
and frolic in a meadow full of silver lupine.
And then a stirring in the body of the West
and a leaping in her hot blood
before she knew it, her left foot was jumping
and then her right—
Yes, North! Yes, I accept!
And when persimmon dawn blinked her eye open,
West took North’s hand in hers
and as Spring wrapped her arms around them both
the red finches perched on their shoulders
whistling their bright and purple nuptial songs