An Old Man's Crime

Last summer my friend drove to Great Barrington.
I told Michael to pull over into a derelict county fair grounds.
Rusty no trespassing signs.
I shushed his fears of an arrest.
"You are not involved."
His dog wanted to join me. I shook my head.
"Sorry, girl."
Over a chest-high chain link fence.
The Taconics rose to the East.
Stroll through calf-high grass
To an abandoned racetrack.
This trespass soothed my criminal soul.
Shutting my eyes I hear
The thunder of hooves trampling the sod.
The crowd's roar winners and losers.
So long ago.
To the west cars sped north and south on Route 7.
Never to know the glamor of a high speed chase.
I climbed up the embankment.
The drivers on the two-laner stared in wonder.
A man of my age
On the side of the road.
What the fuck.
I ran through a gap in the traffic to a gas station.
Michael was meeting me there.
A middle-aged blonde spotted my old man walk.
A smile, as if she might have given a ride.
Many years ago.
I smiled back my thanks
I said not a word.
Forever a bad boy.