Once upon a time
a man whose voice I’d never heard
called me Hope Crowfeathers
and asked me to be his Valentine.
After that we talked for hours
over thousands of miles
while I sank into love
and he laughingly denied it.
He dared me to go to him
and I drove all night to do it,
meeting him bleary eyed in his driveway.
wondering who this man was
in the fedora
with his cockiness and glasses
and his Massachusetts accent.
He took me walking on a frozen beach
the same beach we married on the next year,
the one where I scattered his ashes
ten years later.
But that first time, with the ice crunching
under our shoes
we talked about heartbreak
about histories and herstories.
He sent me home knowing
we were only at the beginning
that by calling me Hope
he had given it to us both.
So, these are going to be out of order. This one is from April 29th.