No. 227 - Envy

I’m envious of the man who bowls every Thursday night with his buddies

In matching shirts

Smoking cigarettes and drinking beer by the pitcher

I’m envious of the fly fishing guide

Who lives in the Rockies

And spends his weekends on rafts

His nights under a wool blanket

I’m envious of the saxophonist who plays the same gig

Thursday through Sunday

Beneath stage lights and clouds of smoke

I’m envious of the logger who works in forests

Sawing down hickory and maple

Forty hours a week with weekends off

To coach little league

I’m envious of the postman who delivers his route

Six days a week

Opening mailboxes and getting signatures

From folks who leave him a cash tip at Christmas

I’m envious of the drunkard who gave up - rotting from the inside out

I’m envious of the salesman who hits his quota - content with the middle of the road

I’m envious of the cardinal who wears a robe - a slow gate with God

I’m envious of the professor who lives on campus - in cold winters

I’m envious of the poet

and painter

and sculptor

and playwright

I’m envious of anyone who doesn’t work to exhaustion

Who isn’t laid up on a couch in Texas

Wondering if he made the wrong choices

Questioning his place in the world

Drowning in fear

I’m an envious man

*Composed, Edited, and Published at Whatley Wines in Fredericksburg, TX