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Chicago
How I miss night in Chicago.
Streetlamps humming along with
the corner jazz musicians.
The howling of cars dancing beneath trains.
Ordering Chinese food at
three twenty-eight in the morning.
Ice skating on Michigan Avenue before
losing another game of chess at Hyde Park.
I miss the streets- worn, cracked
by the love of a million feet,
veins running through the city.
Standing where Sandburg stood.
But I don't miss my first wife.
William Wright Harris
Email: William Wright Harris
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