Return

Staten Island Ferry Churning seaward cuts the harbor glass Its crystalline wake Diamond bright in the midday sun Old man on the deck Looks up at man-made mountains of Lead and steel They do not return his gaze They can’t of course See The wonder in those aging eyes What dreams have we That build our towers to the stars... Ah there she is Proud lady, standing tall Her golden torch ablaze Does she still care These many years A young lad then Wept grateful tears In the smoky days of ’44 Never to return to the blood-stained soil of His fathers’ fathers Orphaned He surrenders his heart To the maiden of the waves Does she still care? Follow the tear In an old man’s eye And look to the beginning Feel the hearts that beat Unshackled joy Forever to be Free. (Previously published in Indie Journal, Oct.1999; Footprints, Vol.3, No.1, Summer 2000)