Poem: Leaving Chicago

Leaving Chicago

Where you live, there are few lights,
and night clouds are lost in the darkness.
Life grows quiet after dusk,
but you will take this with you,

the ceaseless activity, the lights and night clouds,
the activity, people, the energy
that empowers and wears down

endlessly.
Your bag is packed, and you take home
no postcards, no logo laden gifts,
nothing

but the joy that there are such places
and millions who thrive there, and a greater joy
that you can visit, return, and visit yet again,

the tides of energy filling you,
then spreading through the night air
like stars in the Milky way,

always flaming,
yet far enough away that
you do not burn.

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The picture is of the Chicago skyline, taken about 10 at night. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Poem: Five AM in Washington DC

Five AM in Washington DC

You wake, far away
from your home, far
from the birds that wake you
each morning, their songs
like chamber music, delicately woven,
bright and lively;

far from the soft New England light
that so often wakes you gently
like a lover's kiss,
warm and kind,

far from the singing wind
that blows softly in spring,
rustling the trees
that surround your home like a cocoon,

far from your love,
her soft voice a memory,
clear, so real you imagine she is here.

And indeed, she is,
as are the sounds of birds, the light and the morning wind,
all part of you even as you travel,
stamped on your soul,
carved into your heart,
as permanent as marble,
tender as silk.

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The picture is of the Pawlet Community Church in Pawlet, VT, a few miles from my home. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom