For Hours

Don’t like going into stores
prefer sitting outside on a bench
waiting for her to come out.

Sometimes you don’t feel like talking about anything
answering questions, hearing excuses, explaining yourself
you don’t want discussions or lectures
don’t need the sharing of ideas or opinions, anecdotes, or dreams.

Sometimes you simply want to sit alone
in your rocking chair in your quiet little room
stare out the window into the street at nothing in particular
for hours like grandpa used to do.

Michael Estabrook has been publishing his poetry in the small press since the 1980s. He has published over 20 collections, a recent one being The Poet’s Curse, A Miscellany (The Poetry Box, 2019). Retired now writing more poems and working more outside, he just noticed two Cooper’s hawks staked out in the yard or rather above it which explains the nerve-wracked chipmunks. He lives in Acton, Massachusetts.