Autobiographical Poet

As I sit wandering about the south side of Chicago captured effortlessly by the tall dandelions watching the lightening bugs rest on sunken cattails we often lit them just before the sun sets over George Washington Carver school deep within the forest preserve over looking the Dan Ryan expressway just to keep the mosquitoes at bay there are always so many not even the swarming dragon flies feasting could truly silence them I sit pondering away with my thoughts on the Pullman strike and the hay market projects writing poetry in my journal as quiet as a mouse an yet I always had something to say the orange sky began to drift as a blanket of stars started twinkling in a distant over the railroad tracks I can here the loco motive rolling down the broken planks-cotton belt screeching down the steal beams fresh bread will be served tonight with my grandmothers famous Sicilian soup right about now I here her calling my name Cocoa cocoa put that book down and get in here for supper it’s getting dark you know I stuck my pencil inside my braid and begin skipping towards the gardens homes that were actually built 1945 name after Congressman John Altgeld for war veterans returning from WWll and their families there simply was no greater peace right away I got to roll the lemons cutting them for fresh lemonade and begin asking all kinds of questions about where do the bugs go at night how do they sleep and why do lightning bugs come out just before dust then die out after we catch them and put them in a jar the rest just vanish my dad answered all my questions as I began to drift off to sleep he carries me upstairs to bed tucks me in removed my pencil from my braid and places my journal on my nightstand dims the light as my mind starts to dream of my tomorrows adventures