It started snowing crossing over to Michigan

Flurries of white

So light it fluttered off to the sides of the road,

Collecting in the dirty brown ditches.

We had pulled over on Kedzie Ave for gas,

cheap coffee.

There was an unexpected energy in the car,

Like we were doing something dangerous

in a 1930s picture show.

Our movements surreal and strange.

We had escaped Chicago.

City of bricks and jazz.

Stone faces buried under thick scarves

Everyone in black waiting for the train,

The tired man on W. Armitage,

begging for a dollar.

Color and flickering neon signs.

Warm bread bakeries and dark cafes.

When we arrived we ran out past the old wooden steps

Out onto the frozen sand

The long dry grasses trampled down by the snow

Ran out to the waters edge

The waves were foaming.

Gusts of harsh wind burning our faces raw

My sister tripped over driftwood

It was so cold all she could do is laugh at herself.

When we finally drove back that night

we played Elvis Presley’s Christmas

on the radio.