If I lived in Chicago, I wonder
if there would be a constant tug
from the locked stream
that runs through The Lurie Garden–
if I would arrange my day
so I could lower myself
onto the gray-planked walkway,
remove my shoes, couple them nearby,
and then dip my toes into the water,
wiggle down so they touch
the bottom,
watch the rivulet run
over pennies and dimes and nickels,
muse about wishes,
look at the raised garden
wearing clouds like a fancy hat,
and feel fellowship
with the other wanderers,
most with their feet in the flow,
and none looking at their phones
(except for the occasional picture.)

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Susan Fuchtman won the 2015 Poetry Award at the Indiana Faith & Writers Conference.

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Image by Diego Delso via Wikimedia Commons.