The night circles Around the full moon Like an albatross circles The light house at the docks.

Cars on Michigan Avenue Flash eyes of ruby and amber As notes of the sidewalk Saxaphonist split the river Of evening walkers.

The hand in all the stop Signs signals a secret the optic nerve can never Decode. The only key To mystery is music.

Tall towers put on their Tuxedos of light and vertical Lines, and line the boulevards Striking rakish poses, polishing Their pickup lines.

A bass guitar joins in the evening Music, rising her - an anonymous striking Woman - up and up into The gaint circus tent - sky at dusk. She vanishes from sight. Perhaps Her acrobatic leap and fall will be that Of wind and rain, expected tomorrow.