Chicagoetry: Like A Western Avenue Along Saturn's Icy Ring

Like a Western Avenue Along Saturn's Icy Ring

A warm, dry place
here on the frozen edge
of an apparently infinite universe? Really?!

Wait: yes.
A warm, dry place here in America, like.
This kind of thing.

The sharp edge
of the sparkle
on a cold ruby ring,

a small nuclear storm
on the surface
of Jupiter.

That old saw! That's what I saw
in her tiny hand gesture on the train
earlier this afternoon, like the bright trill

of an antique Persian flute,
or an ice-dove shaped just like one,
floating upwards

along Western Avenue in the sharp, autumn
dusk. It has to be dusk, floating upwards
in the sharp autumn dusk.

Like a light, drowsy dove
floating upwards
in the sharp autumn dusk.

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J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.

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More Tindall:

* Chicagoetry: The Book

* Ready To Rock: The Music

* Kindled Tindall: The Novel

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