Lynn Tait | Where Have All the Fathers Gone or Apartment Living Circa 1963
The horse I rode in on stopped by a creek of willow leaves,
but he had a hankering for the taste of maple leaves.
He won’t fit in the apartment, there’s no balcony,
mane’s too long, bathroom’s too small, there’s no love so he leaves.
Behind coal-fuelled building, chute drops jewels dark as failed dreams.
Grandma’s scissors remain sharp; cutler rings his bell and leaves.
Say hello to little girls on the stairwell, reciting the cooties creed
at the child hiding in the basement, turning her lisp into silver leaves.
Living in one bedroom apartment, mother and grandma thick as thieves,
Lynn wished they were soundless fireworks, falling like father’s maple leaves.
but he had a hankering for the taste of maple leaves.
He won’t fit in the apartment, there’s no balcony,
mane’s too long, bathroom’s too small, there’s no love so he leaves.
Behind coal-fuelled building, chute drops jewels dark as failed dreams.
Grandma’s scissors remain sharp; cutler rings his bell and leaves.
Say hello to little girls on the stairwell, reciting the cooties creed
at the child hiding in the basement, turning her lisp into silver leaves.
Living in one bedroom apartment, mother and grandma thick as thieves,
Lynn wished they were soundless fireworks, falling like father’s maple leaves.
Lynn Tait is an award-winning poet/photographer residing in Sarnia, Ontario, Canada. Her poems have appeared in FreeFall, Vallum, CV2, Literary Review of Canada, Trinity Review, High Shelf Press, The Quarantine Review, Verse/Virtual, Muleskinner, Last Leaves and published in over 100 anthologies. She is a member of the Ontario Poetry Society, the League of Canadian Poets and the American Academy of Poets. Her debut poetry collection You Break It, You Buy It is forthcoming in 2023 with Guernica Editions.
