sometimes on these visits, in just the right quiet moments - with the wind blowing across the river and the tribune tower hovering - i get sentimental.

the kind of sentimental that makes me wish my arm wasn't empty. that makes me want to have someone to show off all these things to. show off my family. show of the place i'm from. the place that somehow buried itself in me while i wasn't paying attention. the place i didn't know well enough to appreciate when i was here to appreciate it. the people who became pieces of me. the pieces of them that made me how i am. the hidden genesis. the unseen roots.

show it because it's a part of me that not many people know. a part that means a lot. that is special. and not easily illuminated.

parts of me that i only now know are important.

sometimes on these visits, in just the right quiet moments - with the wind blowing in from the lake and the band shell glowing - i let my mind wander.
i let it feel your weight keeping my arm warm on the michigan avenue bridge.
your eyes smiling while i explain the cliche, boring tourist facts that everyone already knows.
they die the river green on st. patricks day. and it kinda stays green all year now.
long ago they reversed the flow of the river.
it's called the second city because they rebuilt it better after the fire.
not because it's second rate.
a phoenix from the ashes.
like me.

it could have been you.
but i shouldn't think that way anymore.

it can be someone else.
someone who wants to find it.
the empty arm in the shy city.

posted by adam @ 11:57 PM