When Winter Come Read Free Page A

party think it strange that I not brag
    â€™bout how many ways or how long we ride each other.
    This way a being with a woman be so new an tender
    I close my eyes an feel like a fresh born calf stumbling
    on weak wet legs, discovering that it not the ground
    that be moving.

Like Raven
Like Raven from Head to Toe
    York’s Nez Perce wife
    His hair and strength was not unlike
    that of the wooly-headed buffalo.
    Some of my people thought
    he had been burned by a great fire
    Others thought he had painted
    himself in charcoal, as was the custom
    for warriors returning from the warpath
    making him the bravest among his party.
    Two hard wet fingers did not remove
    the black from his forehead or arms
    nor did the sweat from our naked turtle dance
    make his salty skin any less like the night.

Art of Seduction
Art of Seduction
    York’s Nez Perce wife
    I know a hungry man’s eye can undress a woman
    from across a smoldering fire, because York did it.
    When I grew warm to his advances,
    I gave him permission and invited him over
    without ever opening my mouth. I looked away,
    then back, then away, then back, so slow
    when my eyes returned to meet his,
    it made his nostrils flare and my heart beat
    like two drums in my chest.
    He didn’t have a courting flute, so the first music we made
    between us was a way of looking into each other’s eyes
    and exchanging naked promises so full of heat
    passers-by would swear we were already man and wife.
    His big hands were rough from a life full of hard work
    but when they were filled with me
    each one became a party of men deep in the wilderness
    intent on exploring every mound
    and knowing all of the hollowed-out and sacred places.

Quiet Storm
Quiet Storm
    York’s Nez Perce wife
    . . . may the moon softly restore you by night, may the rain wash away your worries . . .
    â€”Apache blessing
    While out searching for camas and other roots
    to celebrate our choosing each other
    I made pictures with my fingers and lips
    trying to make the raven’s son understand
    the number and beauty of the butterfly.
    A rainstorm came out of the hills and forced us
    to crawl under a giant pine’s outstretched wings.
    The soft bed of needles under us and the music
    in the steady downpour left us so warm and wet
    we barely noticed when the rain stopped
    and moved on across the valley.
    Before our lips and tongues finally parted
    we floated like two eagles circling midair
    trying to pass off a just-caught salmon
    a mile above the Clearwater.

Lovers’ Moon
Lovers’ Moon
    York’s Nez Perce wife
    After the redheaded one’s bed is made
    and his stomach full of meat, he gives
    my Tse-mook-tse-mook To-to-kean the slice of
    daylight left to do as he pleases.
    Pretending not to rush back to me
    he passes by and nods.
    After I track him down in the dark, jump on
    his back and wrestle him to the ground
    we wander off laughing toward the horses
    then follow the riverbank upstream, holding hands
    and looking for a private place to celebrate
    the way the moon dances on the face of the water.
    We find a rock to hold all our clothes
    and play in the shallows like children
    but after our bodies kiss, we stop to weigh
    the gift of time alone and grow up real fast.

Midnight Ride
Midnight Ride
    York’s Nez Perce wife
    After the fires die down, a moon full of shine
    allows us to wander off into the night’s arms.
    Urged on by the river
    and the night’s music, our two quickly become one.
    Straddled aboard him
    a buffalo robe around my shoulders and nothing else
    I close my eyes and ride
    low and close, the way a hunter tracks buffalo
    in the deep winter snow.
    Our gentle trot becomes a gallop and after a good sweat
    our gallop becomes
    a quiet stand. Then we bow our heads an wait
    for our breaths to catch up.
    After a quick dip in the cold river, I mount back up
    for warmth and we ride slow
    and long until my legs quiver and York finds the strength
    to harness