71st & Stony Island

The #28 bus was pretty much the main route downtown from the Southside. Charlie Downs had left Mississippi to join the Air Force as soon as he was old enough. Fresh out of the service, he had briefly worked at Montgomery Ward’s catalog house, like so many postwar southern refugees before him. But driving was his talent and his passion. There was freedom in taking … Continue reading 71st & Stony Island

Eyes the Color of Coffee

Xochil pours coffee into my cup The el rumbles south above our heads like thunder from the mountains, the roar of a waterfall into a pool where jaguars come to drink. Cold summer sleet spatters against the bakery windows grey mist rises as women scatter across Wabash and Monroe like black birds to their skyscraper days. The train roars above us Xochil pours coffee eyes … Continue reading Eyes the Color of Coffee

This Morning in Old Town

Dawn on an autumn Sunday Elvis cuts through crisp lake air there’ll be no more rest for at its best the crowds will just not care Wielding bells and whistles signs and screams galore all cheer and wait for athletes great to funnel up the shore Swarming colors by the thousands they soon will be long gone they’ll rest their feet once they complete our … Continue reading This Morning in Old Town