A Life of Envy in memory of Stephen 1983-2012 I would rather someone to call sister, brother, father rather than my family tree rootless, without leaves; a life-path with fewer side streets, instead of twists and turns— crossroads leading to dead ends. I would rather hear the hum and drawl—calling for Mom again, talks with my son, now, instead of memories, walks with his children—the same places I taught their dad the art of the snake hunt, the bugle-sound grass makes blown between cupped hands and thumbs, the craft of stone skipping, the search for the perfect pee tree, answers to the ritual asking of why, the cadence of the word grandma.
Lynn Tait is an award-winning poet/photographer residing in Sarnia Ontario Canada. Her poems have appeared in Windsor Review, RE:al, Quills Canadian Poetry Magazine, Feathertales, The Tower Society, Contemporary Verse II, Vallum, Freefall Literary Magazine, Literary Review of Canada and in over 100 Canadian and American anthologies, She’s had a chapbook Breaking Away, published, co-authored the poetry book EnCompass I, and is working on two full length poetry manuscripts. She is a member of the League of Canadian Poets and The Ontario Poetry Society.
WordCityLit 
One thought on “A Life of Envy. A poem by Lynn Tait”