Twenty-One years and a day ago,
On a lonely November night,

There was a woman,
One who is to be respected and loved.
Who was nine months pregnant
No longer.

In her arms arrived a crying pale child,
The mother whispered her name
And the wind caught it.

Little did she know that whisper traveled to me, 17 years later,
And delivered to me the name,
Of the woman I fell in love with.