{"sf1_id":619313,"sf2_id":"rm8V3My1","title":"Chicago At Noon","author":"Zephyromatic","words":386,"posted_at":"2013-11-28T17:57:00.000Z","tags":["Poetry","Simple"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/619313-chicago-at-noon","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/rm8V3My1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/86/22/86227126-e378-4c36-b541-dbc1c6592024","description":"#1 of Poems and such\n\nItchycoo Park was a 1967 song by the band Small Faces.http://youtu.be/14ViwvgtvbA\nI don't know if this area is where poetry stuff goes. But I... guess it is now!\nThis poem is about simple love and stuff like that~","content":"Beauty is the mountain\n\nCragged pocked face of ice\n\nRock and dirt, trees and root\n\nDeep, deep into the Earth\n\nBeauty is the ocean\n\nMaelstrom and wave massive\n\nPool and reef, trench and darkness\n\nDeep, deep into the Earth\n\nBeauty is the city\n\nHurried vital hive beat\n\nTempos of metal, contrete, dreams\n\nDeep, deep into the Earth\n\nIt's night and the window is open, the curtains sway in the sigh of the breeze.\n\nIt's noisy outside, the crickets and cicadas and all the other sections of the midnight orchestra in full swing.\n\nAnd it's warm, so warm and full of supper and dessert after, something she found to make, and a lot of it.\n\nNow she's here and I'm here and thunder growls hot and distant somewhere, the window's an old television, everything is black and white and gray.\n\nI'm holding her loosely like luggage against me at first but my grip grows tighter and then she's a precious thing, not baggage or groceries but a gem.\n\nEventually she stirs and the gleam in her sapphire eyes confirms it.\n\nAt first she has that wry expression on her face--the one that's playful and so vital, so ready--but it turns into a crease of worry and those first drops patter on the awning above the TV, steel drums jiving with the orchestra.\n\nThat face of hers is so earnest and so enamored like a child.\n\n\"What's wrong babe?\"\n\nSo natural and true and full.\n\nI blink the tears that have congealed on my eyes away.\n\nThe gleam of the night is blurry now.\n\n\"Itchycoo Park,\" I say. I can't stop smiling it feels like my face is busted.\n\n\"It's all... too beautiful.\"\n\nAnd she stares at me with those worried gleaming gemstones while I tighten my embrace.\n\nShe thinks I'm half-asleep or three-quarters even but I'm awake, have been awake in the hot loud night holding her, lucid as Chicago at noon.\n\nAnd after a few more tears squeeze their way out we kiss a little and exchange I-Love-Yous and the thunder rumbles closer now but that's okay, because now we're both heading into dark sleep.\n\nThe rain comes in full blast next and that's okay too because in the morning we'll drink cocoa on the porch, laughing and smelling the sweet afterglow of the June shower.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}