The Morning Salute









My eyes look upon

Something strange

Minutes before dawn

The peace of moments new

A day anew

The weary eyed few

That arise at this hour

Stumble fourth

And yawn to the heavens

Like gentle flowers

We make our ways

Through streets frozen cold

Filled with feet of winter snow

In the city of Chicago

Yet we go

Be it train or car

Foot or bus

We go

To our locations

Bustling confrontations

From skyscrapers

To the subway underneath

Life today is cold

Yet joyous

Continued on with a chorus

Of horns and tires

I salute you Chicago

In the morning hours

We find our purpose

Amongst the weeds

Burst these most beautiful flowers

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