Portrait of Chicago

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Michigan Ave thrums in my ears

As I escape from the third floor

Soaked to saturation

My mind will hold no more

Clear my head for an exam

That’s closer every minute

I’m disquieted by time

And prisoner within it

Signals change and traffic stops

I cross the halted flow

South of the art museum

There’s a park I think I know

It’s solitude I’m seeking

I venture deeper in

Through the trees that muffle

Chicago’s ever present din

Noise fades and I hear water

Unexpectedly I find

The Fountain of the Great Lakes

And I sit to unwind

From each patinaed goddess

In each timeless face

There’s an invitation to consider

The magic of their place

Superior wears the north wind’s shroud

Her waters deep and cold

She forever keeps the missing

That her icy hallows hold

Michigan peaceful noble strong

Bare shouldered and serene

Posture of a handmaid

Bearing of a queen

Huron indifferent to all care

Leaning back at rest

Welcoming the flood

That pours upon her breast

Erie looks to Huron

As if to fill her bowl

And satisfy the petulance

That rules her peevish soul

Ontario turns away

Fed by Niagra’s roar

Lamenting what St. Lawrence takes

From the basin of her shore

If I could plumb each laver

What mysteries revealed

That age and flow and wave

Have eroded and concealed

Dreams and stories that escape

Upon the flow of time

Like images that fade are washed

From the basins of our minds

Until they’re reimagined

To congeal and rise again

These waters of our dreams

Which inspire the hearts of men