My first Ex

He sent me her photo
when he finally remarried
at fifty, fifteen years
after our lingering cat and mouse,
after other attempts at romance
had ended.

She was round like her glasses.
Not unpleasant looking
and a far safer bet
than I ever was with my
hippie hair, dangling earrings,
long legs stretching from mini's
like two show-offs.

Dr Phil would not
have recommended me.

He emails me
once in a while
(but I'm not sure
he'd tell her),
flirts occasionally
(I know he'd never
tell her),
likes to one-up me
(smug, he would brag
if he dared tell her
he wrote me).

I remember loving him.
I remember when love
flew away, a giant swan
flapping itself free
from a once sparkling lake,
gradually transformed
into quicksand.




Pris Campbell
©2010


Chiron Review   2011

Art: Flying Swan by Beth Woods.
See more of her wonderful silk paintings HERE

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