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Illusion of Slumber
Long, dreary icicles dripped
The annual grip of winter’s presence
Refusing to let go ‘till April’s warm breezes
Arrived to thaw the frosted city
Chicago, a blizzard of its own
Flashes of frayed beanies and sleek scarves
Shopping bags rustling and flamboyant coats swishing
The patters of rushed footsteps, click, clack, click, clack
Giving life to the city blanketed with snow
The sun, weak but spreading its fingertips
Caressing the sharp edges of tall buildings, soft light
Lake Michigan at the end of the street
The elegant green, mimicking glass
Guarding the world of wildlife within it.
Scampering across the cracked sidewalk
The echoes of laughter following me
My cheeks pinched by the cold
Peering at the worn, red brick of shops that lure busy people inside
The streets of Chicago
Blasted with winter but still strong
Old but still active
Alive under the illusion of slumber
Alive
Alive
Alive
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