GREENWOOD LAKE
BY MICHAEL ESTABROOK

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, thin
as a stick figure
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