We walked along Michigan avenue
the green water of the Chicago river
lapping against the tour boats
the violinist on the street
a hat at his feet-his tones
dropping into lower Wacker drive
Romance was in the air- for hours
we watched the fog rise off the water
and play around the parapets
etching our names into the slat of a bench
eating popcorn-our fingers greasy
against each other holding hands
When we arrived at our hotel, we laid back
watching the news and talking quietly
changing channels from game show to talk show
the news gripping us-the violence in the streets
while we had been there-falling in love
blood spilled someone’s love all over the concrete
When we talk about the memory now, all is changed
from the loveliest date ever
to the night someone we never knew
lost her baby boy
Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read. -Francis Bacon
Walking around my beloved Chicago, I do find my eyes more often passing over the new to admire the old, particularly the architecture that came out of the era just after the great fire in 1871. The Chicago Cultural Center was opened in 1897. Originally the city’s central library, it was converted in the late 70’s to an arts and culture center. I love this building. I walk around it every time like it is the first time. And the real beauty for me of this corner of Michigan and Washington is the old buildings flanked by the new. But for now, let’s look back.
Today I wanted to join in with Norm’s Thursday Doors feature for the first time. I enjoy it each week and though the photos from my little camera can’t hold a candle to his, I wanted to share the ones that featured doors.
This is part a of part 1 of a walking tour I am taking through Chicago with my husband. My stamina could be better so we are taking it in pieces, and on this trip we walked a circle from the train station on Canal Street up Madison, a bit of a skirt through Monroe, then to Michigan Avenue. On the way back, we took Washington because he lost his set of photos from our last visit to Daley Plaza when a computer died. Yes, back-up would have been wise. Let’s not reopen that wound.
I took a few pictures and looked for benches to sit or walls to lean so I could scribble a few verses to take home with me–while he took his hundreds of pictures. I just like to be there. But I did get a few photos to share.
The sunshine was unrelenting, but kind when it came to photographs. I get a kick out of light and shadow. I especially loved this view of the cross above the door when I looked up.
Did you tidy up before leaving
did you make waffles for breakfast
and make the beds before you showered
did you read some chapters from a novel
or walk hundreds of stairs
did you know it was your last day
Did you make love
did you fantasize about your first meeting
did you eat your favourite doughnut and feel guilty
were you apprehensive about your eye doctor
telling you how your eyes have changed
at so young an age
Did you sing along with the radio
did you dance in your shower
did your kids fuss and make a mess
of cheerios on the sofa watching cartoons
did you get online and tell the world
about the pimple on your back
Did you walk past a church
did it make you think of your mother
did you smile when a child burped
and laughed, or did you scold
did you wipe up the baby’s spit-up
did you know it was your last day
In memory of Nykea Aldridge and all of the 762 people murdered in Chicago in 2016.
I tried to write a well – spoken tribute in her honor and for her children because I was so moved by what happened. The words just wouldn’t come. If we are this stunned by this murder, I can’t imagine how her family feels, especially after finding out the murderers were let out of prison early. If they don’t let this justice system work, it will never ….well, work.
I hate epilogues. But I felt I had to say something. Anything.