Tim Stopulos

It's snowing in Chicago
and cars are passing by.
I stare from undressed windows
at the dusted walks outside.

It's cold here in Chicago
strangers are dormant foes.
No one smiles or says hello
their lips are frozen closed.

It's dark here in Chicago
The days they end too soon.
It seems the sun's no match right now
for the ever-present moon.

It's snowing in Chicago
each flake twist and turns around
searching for her perfect spot
upon the whitened ground.

I'm new here in Chicago
and like her, I've come to see
if I can find a spot
that perfectly fits me.



It's snowing in Chicago
from a light and looming gray.
My words, like snow, fall quietly
and soon will melt away.