The First One

The first weekend of their friendship she
complained that her new ring was loose
on her right hand and that it really fit better
on the ring finger of her left but everyone
knew you only wore engagement rings there.
No problem, he said, as he slid it on her finger,
I’ll engage you. But don’t take it off or the
engagement’s broken. And she didn’t care
that it was all in jest – she kept that ring on
for months, even when she slept, even in the
shower, even though it turned her finger green.

One night during the winter camping trip they
snuck out after it was dark and walked in circles
around the campsite for an hour, two, the fresh
snow crunching under their feet as they lifted
their faces to the skies, sharing the names of
constellations they knew and inventing others.

He could tell that she was feeling sad -
everything was ending, graduation just a
few months away, and after that, who knew?

But they had tonight, and as they walked he
told her a fable about the sun that still shines,
even on the darkest days, there behind the clouds,
and as they made their way through the silent forest
he held her hand in his, an unexpected sweetness.

In later years she thought of him sometimes.
They never even kissed, you know.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(Three Word Wednesday prompt: care, unexpected, weekend)