Her first husband was a rogue
too young for what she had in mind
but it was high-school sweetheart love
and her parents insisted
in a Roman Catholic sort of way
his too, it was a good investment
that soon included the benchmark 2.0 kids
in a house-and-white-picket-fence world
but he was prone to outrageous fortunes
and accidental accidents
that practically left him speechless
her too, most nights, waiting by the phone
so she gave herself a Divorce for Christmas
and never, ever looked back.
But he did. Retraced his missteps
relived his worst nightmares (and mine)
hit rewind and started over
with a nimble bride the same age
his first wife had been
though a better investment this time
consented not contrived
with two more dividends and
a house on a Dream
where he sometimes smiles
that scoundrel smile
to his reflection in the mirror
a flash of wicked conceit
for an endgame so very well played.
Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo from Canva. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
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