Living and breathing in the Second City
I had the privilege of meeting Milton this summer. He was an incredibly short man. He was so short I remember being very embarrassed that I had even noticed. I thought it a poetic justice that his legacy would cast shadows on us all. Indeed the shadow has fallen over me today.
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
-Carl Sandburg
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