Poem: Walking in Chicago

My God, I love the windy city. If there is a heartland city in America it is surely Chicago.

Walking in Chicago Walking west on Chicago from Michigan, two dollars in my pocket, lost in thought Black man asks  for change, gets the two bucks In Chicago, broke is mostly black Not my last two bucks, ‘cause I’m not broke There’s some money in the bank, not much Wasn’t hard to give to make myself feel good, not like sharing all I had, not going hungry Couple blocks west, two more stop and ask The last two took it all, I said Robbed you? Shit, man, who? Worried for me and gonna help No, just gave them my last two bucks I hugged the nearest, told him I was sorry, he hugged back In shock, our eyes met, just an instant Both full of tears, mine because I loved him And his because he recognized the love A moment, freeze-frame in my mind and his, an embarrassment, snagged and tangled, caught unaware in my humanity Frozen in my mind, I know I’ll see his face, feel his humid hug, see those tears for life Perhaps he’ll see them too We’re all so hungry for each other’s touch and understanding, driven away from holding on Not knowing it’s all that’s left of you and me Running, always running, chased by fear of what and who we still may be, what others see in us and yet so close to one another, under all that stink of fear

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.