Personal essay/blog: “Flying high – The day I hated Chicago”

When I strolled out of the jetway into the terminal there was no sign of the snow storm that had stranded me in Columbus the day previous. There had been some snow on the ground when we taxied over to Terminal 1 to be sure, but the sky above us was a brilliant blue with a sleepy winter sun shining down on the world. It felt like one huge trick had been played on me, one which had now successfully delayed my homecoming with one long day.

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Poetry: “My heart”


My heart


I carry my heart upon my sleeve

Though it’s a foolish act

To let it sit so openly

Exposed to all that harm


I carry my nerves upon my skin

Where they throb and pulse

They swell with all my troubles

Until they’re fit to burst


I carry my hopes upon a string

Like a kite they flutter high

Though when the weather turns on me

My dream kite crashes down


I carry my dreams upon my tongue

Both the bitter, and the sweet

I let them linger in my mouth

Until they are forced away