City of Shoulders
Your fountains bring tears, your sky
scrapers pierce my heart.
Missing Chicago
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City of Shoulders
Your fountains bring tears, your sky
scrapers pierce my heart.
They create out of
nothing whole scenes, entertain
from mere suggestions.
The Windy City
carries aloft a million
dreams on fierce updrafts.
Post-tryptophan, we
watch Forrest Gump and digest
the day’s memories.
Don’t count calories.
Savor silken pumpkin, tart
cranberries. Taste joy.
Tempting smells – so strong
they nearly satiate the
appetite – drift by.
Brine, barbecue, deep
fry, roast, smoke? How many ways
can you do one Tom?
I’m the kitchen air
traffic controller, and the
oven my runway.
Canned pumpkin sold out.
Damned overachievers! I’m
a “last-minute” type.
First snowfall blankets
unraked beds of leaves. Nature’s
default is beauty.