Memorial Day, Chicago
Downtown is packed, a mass of marching feet.
Stacked chicks patrol along Division Street.
The Hancock tower, a tall block stretching dark,
Shades shoppers trooping up each avenue,
And weekend chefs from every yard imbue
The air with a pungent haze of barbecue.
On the Eisenhower, traffic’s fully crammed in.
From the West on Washington, the South on Cannon,
In squads, where Lincoln guards his general’s park,
Stream flip-flopped families, armed with chairs and bug spray.
With beetled brow he sternly approves their day
Of beaches, picnics, concerts, food, and play.
The lakefront’s long and calm with gulls and bikes.
None hark to distant guns or scan for air strikes;
Instead boys watch babes and moms their tykes—
The sun and fun our soldiers bled and died for.
Today, at least, let’s pray we don’t ignore
Our lives of playful peace were bought with war.