because I’m a car mechanic’s son

When Ed who’s a doctor’s son couldn’t start his car in the snow
outside Salzburg after The Magic Flute, I got out to push
saying “Pop the clutch Eddie after I get her rolling”
which I knew how to do –


because you know who you are in spite of it all

Even though the mirror tells you
that you are not
the same as you once were, oddly
you still feel young inside.
Thinning hair, age spots jowls and crow’s feet –
all that evidence doesn’t mean
anything –



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). He lives in Acton, Massachusetts.