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Michael Estabrook
Greenwood Lake
we were too poor
to have vacations when I
was a kid
but once we drove all the way
to Greenwood Lake
stayed overnight in a cabin
with screen doors
in the front and in the back
a long dark hallway in
between
I caught three
sunfish
threw them back
climbed with my brother
over boulders and rocks
and into trees
collecting pine
cones
and empty birds' nests
but what I remember most
was Dad looking so thin
there beneath the mountains
sitting up
on the hood
of his shiny '56 Buick
having
one last smoke
before the long
long ride
back home
Chestnut-brown Mare
Curbs and sidewalks, fences and
rock walls mark off the streets and yards
keeping the town, society, and indeed, life, orderly.
Signs help too and gates.
Seems such a long ride this morning bumper
to bumper through the town. One of those mornings
when it would be so nice
to go back 150 years
and be pulled along in an open carriage
by a chestnut-brown mare,
feel the cool early breezes of fall,
smell the grass and turning leaves.
I’d have brushed her
and fed her already, of course,
and raked out her stall.
Copyright © Michael Estabrook
