Yellow Awakening

Good morning, Tweety
Awakening with hot air
I’ll do the same, with coffee

Writer: S.P. Marie
Location: The Start

Happy Stuffing & Free Download for All

Giving thanks and appreciating the small things as well as the big keeps this day a joy. I’d like to say thanks to all who have supported the Chicago Literary Map. The writers, whose voices are intersecting with each other and the space around them. Their words make this project possible. And lest not forget, our beloved Chicago and the spectacle that is the Thanksgiving Day Parade, drumming outside my window. Good morning inflatable Tweety Bird, good morning all.

And in the spirit of giving, the Chicago Literary Map is free on iTunes for a limited time.

When I Hear Your Voice, I’m Well.

I

Here I stand by the Chicago River
Talking to you on the phone
The sun is out but the morning is cold
Lake- crisp-wind helps me breathe.

I tell you how I feel.
The river’s water is emerald green.
Your voice brings me solace.
I tell you of my morning with her.

It is Thanksgiving and I can hear
At the distance on State Street
The happy voices and cheerful music
Rushing towards me like deadly shrapnel of what I lack.

You are in the Tropics preparing holiday’s meal
I’m here in the wind.

II

Here I stand by the Chicago River
Calling you my dear. The sun reflects
On the deep green river like fish scales.
I left you a message—you called back.

Half past nine in the morning
The Great Lake blows fresh cool air;
In gratitude my lungs expand.
When I hear your voice I’m well.

We don’t get many chances my dear
And Chronos statue on the clock across
The river on Wacker Drive
Spills time, spells names.

Where are you now? You asked
The answer is painful, long, and obscure my dear.

III

Here I stand by the Chicago River
By the stone bridge calling you my dear.
The river seems to run in reverse to the lake;
But it’s only the wind’s steering—deeply, nothing reverses.

Where are you now? You asked
A question I constantly ponder my dear.
Although I don’t tell you, you know:
Laments upon laments torment me.

You said I should have gone alone.
Your voice is my anchor my solace.
Your pure simplicity humbles me.
This business I’m in is not for cowards.

In the taxi to the airport the driver asked: do you have family or friends here?
The answer is painfully short, wherever the road is, my dear.

Writer:  Dr. Ehud Sela
Location:  River Esplanade

River. Chicago.

In a suit that glows like blue summer lightning
His shirt the color of sunrise
The blind man dances on the State Street bridge
Listening for the salutes of tour boats
As they pass below.

Under the Clark Street span
Upstream or down, who can tell
This river wrenched from its natural flow
A man pulls from the grey roil
A Chinese fish
Like a child dressed in a skin of rainbows.

Writer:  Laurie McGregor Carroll
Location:  State Street Bridge