An Evening Walk on the Lakefront, Chicago  The crisp evening air is a hallucinogen, a potent inhalant, toxic only to tragic and depressive perceptions, and my senses are full.
The sun leaves a signature of autumn colors on the darkening sky, while the city's glass mountains dissolve into the darkness, replaced by constellations of light running in vertical directions.
And in the middle of the drama the moon sneaks surreptitiously into view, nearly full, veiled by a spray of cloud, as I enjoy the sensory feast. -jwh- Autumn 1991
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