Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soulI want to get lost in your rock ‘n’ rollAnd drift away Dobie Gray didn’t write Drift Away, Mentor Williams wrote it. But Dobie made it an international hit. The right mix of sing along, stirring lyrics and his silky soulful voice made it magical. I…
East Ohio Street leads right to Lake Michigan, as so many other roads in Chicago do. This road ends at a tunnel under North Shore Drive into Jane Addams Memorial Park and the Navy Pier beyond. As with most things, being out on the water a bit changes your perspective of the world, and on…
Energy. Vibrancy. Concrete, glass and steel. Traffic. Relentless traffic. Fit achievers marching to close the deal or set a new PR. Steakhouses and pizza and other temptations tip the scale. Look up and you see money reaching for the sky. Look down and you see the homeless trying to get a leg up or having…
Returning to the poem The Ship and Her Makers this morning as I consider the smoke alarm in my hotel room that chirped all night. Such is the glamorous life of travel. Writing instead of sleeping in is a habit I’ve developed, and there’s no sleeping in with a chirpy roommate. Consider: THE TREES We…
Waiting this morning for a flight to Chicago, and the last line of this poem comes to mind. THE SHIP I march across great waters like a queen, I whom so many wisdoms helped to make; Over the uncruddled billows of seas green I blanch the bubbled highway of my wake. By me my wandering…