Leaving Chicago
Chicago must look awfully
inviting from the bleak
landscape
of the polar bear exhibit,
a
red herring when you consider
his
million dollar view of the
Loop
belies the fact that just
behind him,
beyond the bowl of faux
bedrock, Lake
Shore Drive and the
egalitarian
health club lure of the
water front
freedom beckons. Provided our bear
can work out the details
of a classic
Hollywood escape concealed
in a
hamper piled high with snow
white linen,
resist the siren song of
Milwaukee
and the Dells beyond, once
he gets his
bearings nothing stands
between him and
home. My only advice besides the
usual caution against high
season
rates on Mackinac Island
would be
always keep Canada on your
left,
a deceptively simple rule
to ward off the wags in
Detroit who
never tire of reminding
anyone who will listen that
the
Motor City is north of it's
frozen
neighbor. He might feel a twinge of
regret as he bids adieu to
Gaspe,
Gulf of St. Lawrence
ahead,
treading water for a
moment, alone
with his bittersweet memories
of Lincoln Park tucked agreeably
between the Miracle Mile and
Wrigley Field, swarming
with twenty
something’s talking easily
at small
outdoor tables, warm for
April, a
long pause before heading
out to sea.
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