Michael Estabrook

Michael Estabrook is a baby boomer who began getting his poetry published in the late 1980s. Over the years he has published 15 poetry chapbooks, his most recent entitled “They Didn’t Leave Notes.” Other interests include art, music, theatre, opera, and his wife who just happens to be the most beautiful woman he has ever known.

Harvard

Contemplating

the hallowed buildings

of Harvard waiting for the reading

to start, not looking

like a student nor

a faculty member either,

but trying to fit in when suddenly

it begins to rain.

I try this door then that (like a rat

in a maze) but I don't have a key;

cannot get into Harvard out

of the pouring rain

without a key.

Drenched, I have

a vision of Dad dead now all these

years, perking his head up

from under the hood

of his broken Buick, staring

at me, saying finally,

the cigarette dangling from

the corner of his mouth --

Serves you right

for thinking you could hang round

a place like Harvard.