It rained all week, she said. Still it proved fun
spending love time with her sister, senior
soon to graduate college. With no sun
to rely on, imagining their tour
of Grant Park, Adler Planetarium
(though understand I’ve no proof they strolled there)
I see them laughing in rain to ghost strum
of Carl Sandburg’s guitar, droning meter
of his voice reciting his stark poem
“Chicago”, milking those long syllables
at phrases’ end, mixing sharp nouns for stems
of stories—proud to capture sounds, to tell
of common people, of stormy big shoulders,
and now two sisters in mist of fall colors.
Roger Armbrust
October 16, 2014
