By Michale Estabrook
Full moon out tonight but I can’t see it
cloud cover too thick.
My brother’s 69th birthday’s today
but he passed seven years ago.
I used to call him at work – he was a paralegal –
so we could confide in, commiserate, and console one another
so we could make fun of one another too as brothers do.
If you can’t see the moon is it out there, is it shining?
If I can’t see my brother is he still out there shining?
Not certain but he could be, you know
this notion of afterlife being so nebulous, so unproved
such a matter of opinion
people being like ghosts still around
even though you can’t see them.
But it doesn’t matter, afterlife or ghosts
because I know he’s in here
deep inside me breathing and thinking
because we talk every day
confide in, commiserate, and console one another
make fun of one another too as brothers 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 “Controlling Chaos: A Hybrid Poem” (Atmosphere Press, 2022). He lives in Acton, Massachusetts.
