"Well? Where's the poem?" she asked when he started the engine."Okay, here goes. Roses are red and life's a bitch. Tomorrow morning we're going to get...hitched." He nodded to himself and backed out of their parking space.Warmth filled her as she looked up toward the dark skies. "My man is not a poet, but he is all I can ask for in a man. There is one thing I would like for you to do, dear one." What's that?" he asked."Please promise me you will never try to become a poet. There are some things. Please talk to me. Bill, can you hear me?”“Stop shaking me. It hurts. Please.” I looked up at her face, and saw her eyes were full of tears. “Did they hurt you?” I asked her.“No, you came, and scared them away.” Her chin was quivering.“Why are you crying then?”“You idiot ... I’m crying, because I thought you were dead ... or worse.” I was sure that statement made sense to her, but it didn’t do a thing for me. “Can you stand up?” She asked.“Dunno. Let me try,” I pushed myself up on my hands and. More

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