Her Name is Hope

I wrote this a while back, but have never read it on stage.

I had a dream last night
Not very different
from dreams I've had before.
Eyes green like her mother's
skin a golden red caramel...
daddy's Cherokee blood.
Her smile
enough to light up the room
make us forget that
daddy is gone weeks at a time,
make us remember the love
in which she was conceived.
We were happy,
him and I and our baby girl.

I've had dreams like this before
Not the childhood dreams
of little girls:
Princess weddings and little babies.
I never was that girl...
until I met you.
William and Makayla
middle names after
mom and dad.
But this fantasy
was so much more removed
from reality
than my dream last night.
I no longer dream of them
and the possibility they represent
of you one day having loved me.

And so now I dream of her
and everything in her
that reminds me of him.
She is the love that exists
between he and I
even if she were never
to become reality.
She is these words
that no longer speak your name
lingering in memories of you.
She is this poem
that no longer is dedicated
to the possibilities of a distant past
but the hope for a better love.

© R.Bello 12/16/08