Poems featured on The Gladdest Thing
Reason number one it can’t work: his name is Bill. For god’s
sake, he hunts. He has no pets, other than two doting
daughters, and his ex-wife is still alive. He’s simply not my
type. Who wants to get married again, anyway? I’m too old.
I go South at the first frost. Plus, he’s messy. Men are messy.
He could die. Then where would I be?
— Susanna Styveend