I can see green thru
windows, from where I sit.
My Chicago is a fickle femme,
ready to go out, then
changing her mind. Left, then,
with what I can find of the
sidewalks, I am
trapped between rivers.
I follow them home & rest.
Birds follow me, dogs accompany me,
lightening precedes me & my
footsteps are thunder.
One lonely three-millionth of the City.
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