The New Girlfriend She stands in the airport terminal, hands thrust into skinny jeans. Twiggy-eyed as five girls grapple their Dad's arm from her waist. The two ex-wives follow at a distance: try not to look the new one up and down but she catches the glance exchanged: feels a crimson tinge seep up her neck as manicured nails bruise her palms. She sits amongst the pink suitcases that have been temporarily abandoned in the designated waiting space.

Tracy Wall

If you have any comments on this poem, Tracy Wall would be pleased to hear from you.