Chicago

Songs of Travel

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The city is alive
With the whispers of the dead.
The whispers of the dead
Who built the city on their bones
And flooded it with sweat.

And still the city hides
Inside their gothic pinnacles,
Receptacles of sins and sinners,
These monograms of miracles,
And monuments to winners.

– o –

From last week’s trip to Chicago. Stayed in the new Trump Tower. Pictures taken on my mobile.

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