One Lazy Saturday
by Michael Estabrook
Cold and bleak today no
sunshine but no rain either
reminding me for a reason I don’t know
about Dad when he was dying
that day he asked me to accompany him
on a hike in the woods down along the tracks,
out behind old Smith’s Orchards and Farm,
just a couple hours one lazy Saturday,
a simple father and son time together.
But I said no, I didn’t want to go,
I was busy so refused to go.
My Mother scoffed at me, chided me,
but never bothered mentioning
that Daddy was dying of cancer
and would be dead indeed in a few months.
Cancer consuming him from the inside out,
turning his limbs to sticks, his head
into a dried-out gourd. Had I known that,
had my Mother told me that,
even though I was only 15 at the time,
I would have taken the damn walk
with my Dad and not have to feel guilty
about how I didn’t for the rest
of my stupid useless life.