rapt in the gusts
floating so far from home
my fellow dandelion seed
you arrived at my apartment
shaking like tree branches
in the windy city's throes

a specter
a wisp of your self
of the friend I once knew
reciting senseless soliloquies
the voices in your head
taunting you
telling you
you're better off dead
that all that is left
is a life on the streets
below the Adams/Wabash
wrought iron canopy

I know these soliloquies well
I heard them from my father
whose head housed a choir
that never gave rest
til the day his rest was final
and I crucified myself
on the cross of his specter
that I could not save him

why could I not give him
a home?
a release
from choir's incantation?

but a home I cannot give you
for I am still finding my own
and I'm learning I need not bear
this burden any longer
I could not save my father
and I cannot save you
but I can send you back
down the 156 to fabled station
back to where you came

he planted dandelion roots
in my garden
that I've been weeding ever since
and I pray
you find land to take root
your own garden to tend
and the tools
to give it life

09/16/2018

Author's Note: CTA bus route 156.

Posted on 09/25/2018
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