VALENTINE’S DAY
February 14, 1959.
I don’t remember if we went to a movie
Or just drove to town and rode around.
Eventually we parked near a snow drift
In a deserted railroad yard.
We snuggled together in our winter coats.
We kissed. Then, looking straight into my eyes, he said,
“I love you, Jeanne,” adding as a coda,
“And you’re only the fourth girl I’ve said that to.”
I was amazed…a boy had uttered that special phrase;
Excited…he meant me, personally (I love you, Jeanne);
Scared…did I love him? Did I want him to love me?
But mostly, I was curious.
I’d be seventeen in a few weeks;
He was eighteen-and-a-half.
He’d been in love four times
And I was number four?
Who were the other three?
I never asked.
But I’ve never forgotten.
My long-time good friend Jeanne sent me this poem in early December. I asked if I could post it here, she graciously agreed and I decided it was perfect for Valentine’s Day and set it aside.
Valentine’s Day came and went, but I had forgotten about the poem. I received a gentle reminder today.