Notes Written on a Deposit Slip

By Steve Heins

Notes Written on a Deposit Slip

After stopping at south side bank,

I walk east toward Lake Michigan.

In the large-flaked storm, I am drawn

To the grand vistas of Chicago

From the Point, Hyde Park heaven.

At 8:30 a.m., the daylight is so dim

The street lights still burn.  The night

ignores the intrusion of the morning.

The north shoreline toward an invisible downtown

is frozen in the rough-edge of green sheets,

snow is soldered between the cracks,

the work of a drunken Tiffany lamp-maker.

Other big-flaked snow fills the body

Of raw Chicago winds blowing

Where no buildings can civilize the storm.

Higher up snowflakes hang like steam, motionless

Then converges into the muscular white winds.

Barriers of blown snowdrifts block

my way home, high and regularly placed,

They are white hurdles for winter athletes.

On the walk home, I hurriedly write down

These images of a white vision

And the Lake Michigan winter beauty.

By Steve Heins