It's about the feelings, not the place...
ChicagoO'Hare, stepping stone from east to west and back
t'was an overcast day that last time we transited there
p'raps the molten glow of L.A. would part the clouds
one day, even further away now, in the Windy City
that wasn't quite so pretty, some choicest lines birthed
and vanished without a trace, hog-butchered by Time...
as we rushed passed gates along flag draped walls
boarding calls announced, safety belts fastened and
in the rush of getting there, forget we were ever here.
Poetry by arquious
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Written on 2020-09-16 at 07:42
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