September's Anticipation

i can't seem to muster the ability

to speak in my blood to these people.

i never have been and a change of scenery

is not enough. 

my visions have changed to the magnificent

chicago skyline, but the silhouette

in my minds eye is strangely similar

to a row of identical pastel houses.

so maybe tomorrow the sky

will offer me friendship, and maybe

next week the concrete will caress

my rigid shoulder blades hiked up to my ears

maybe next year the L train will feel

too much like home, and maybe

none of this at all.

while i find myself in the chaos

i seem to lose myself in the aftermath.

For now I enjoy the anonymity 

as i wander through september's narrow dawn

clutching phantom sweaters

and waiting for the day i can turn

my mouth to the sky and melt

a single snowflake on my tongue.

though i doubt my body is capable of melting

anything at all with its icy veneer. 

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

First, I'm glad to see postings by you again...I've missed your words! Second...this was a very vivid piece. You write of a place that I have never personally seen, but I have been transported there through your words, and I can see you walking the streets and musing about poetry and life. Great imagery, especially "clutching phantom sweaters" and "september's narrow dawn"...these really stuck out to me for some reason. Nicely done.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you put me back in chicago with this one...and reminded me of very cold periods in my life..and those autumns of relationships that preceded them.

[Eva Rosehill]

Loved this poem, very deep.

[Chris]

New venues to meander... sights to forget. Noise to cancel out and faces to re-sync. Catch your breath as best you can. It's all we can do.