Northwest Chicago

Half-proximal is nearly worse than gone;
To be in arms-reach, yet still past the hand!
Like in the west Chicago's false orange dawn,
Which seems to signal daylight, yet must stand
Opposed to it in every way, I find
Your almost nearness highlights that you are
So far from me in flesh if not in mind
And emphasizes that continual bar
Between us. Were you gone and far away
I'd notice, but prepare my soul for that;
But you are near and far at once, like day
Whose brightness comes (though terminally flat)
Before his truth. The difference is stark
Between that glow and your true sunlike spark.