Your words were nectar sweet
the first time we met.
You were a gentleman,
a self-proclaimed scholar,
you had a way with words.

Those words seduced me
in ways I didn’t experience before.
You asked others about my favorites,
then claimed them to me as your own.
The snare of your embrace closed me in.

We wed. Had children. Amazing sons.
You returned to school,
sent off to PhD programs,
I worked, mothered, good-wifed.
We moved to San Diego.

All- consumed with school,
we hardly saw you..
We were crammed into a small apartment,
seduced again by perfect weather
and a swimming pool right outside.

Five years later,
you obtained your doctorate.
I was in writing groups,
loved my job and rented house,
the boys happy in school.

San Diego’s saturated with shrinks,
we have to move elsewhere,
your words promised
we’d buy a house,
I could stay home with the kids,
have help if I wanted it.

So we moved to the mountains,
Twelve miles from necessities,
an hour from most shopping.
It snowed in October
I watched in disbelief.

I worked, of course.
No help, certainly
not from you,
the workaholic
who wanted children quiet,
dinners without them,
they never really knew you.

I didn’t know your hidden side.
Secret emails, bizarre porn,
what little spare time
out helping friends
who were always female.

So after a vacation home,
a weekend in Vegas,
with so much love and attention
you announced you were leaving
had rekindled a NY flame
on our family vacation.

In short, you left then.
We fought through divorce.
Arrears on child support,
on alimony, a deadbeat dad.
Over a year
not talking with your kids.

That was over 16 years ago now.
Life now, beauty and bounty.
Yours, 3 more failed marriages
and engaged to another.
Lost in your world of words,
fearing not finding ourselves again,
but I found myself,
and found another,
and a mild climate
that suits my garden again.