Chicago Blues


    Clouds ladle low,


    eating buildings,


    biting time.


    Between the city''s


    aproned knees


    I am told a story,


    told a lie.


    She wipes my face


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.with washcloth sky.


    She breathes my


    skin almost dry,


    makes me younger,


    younger, and so,


    more simple wise.


    - Kat Isacson