Your First Time

the sky you saw the first time
you came to Chicago, a child almost
is a brittle sky, a breakable one
tell me all you know
about why you are this way
was it what you were given
when you landed in O’Hare
with a ribbon in your hair
and a suitcase full of summer clothes
even though
it was November

the first time you were young
you made a hopeful gesture
you thought you could handle
both spirituality and mayhem
you almost pulled it off
it almost came alive your hands
you’re so polite

but this city, this Chicago, is different now
from your first time, there are movements now
in neighborhoods, all over town
movements to make changes
small revolutions
international city

but, it’s not your Los Angeles
no place is as vital
in the way it moves
both for peace
and distance
cynics forget that distance makes the dust
irrelevant
distance makes the day seem a proud thing

April 16, 1998