Will you think about me tomorrow,
remember my red squalling face,
wonder where I am?

I think about you every year,
when spring is on the wane,
and summer turns sticky in Indiana
where you made your toughest choice.

You'll never know this, but
your choice formed my choices.

I grew two strong hearts under my own.
When I look backwards to see where her
smile comes from, or his way
of pushing his hair out of his eyes,
there is nowhere to look but myself.
It will not be that way for them.

Some years I thank you,
some years I curse you.
This year I will remember
someone I never knew.