Lady

Lady Liberty doesn’t know where the birds came from,
or why on this late February morning they sing
their five beat rhythm, but it is a sign
that no matter how crippled she gets or how
sad her lovers are, or how many seizures
her bastard children have, she’ll make it to summer.
She has knocked on enough crosses, the birds
sing to god in her behalf. Listen
Her aliments will crawl back into the soil.
Spring, tease her, twist her legs so at night
she swims in blue rainbows. And wakes
to green prairie grasses wet underfoot.
Open her eyes to love and restitution.
Let her clap the land back into rhythm.
May it work this time and end
the 200 year drought of freedom
-
Archives
- November 2009 (1)
- October 2009 (6)
- September 2009 (13)
- August 2009 (6)
- July 2009 (6)
- June 2009 (5)
- May 2009 (4)
- April 2009 (6)
- March 2009 (24)
- February 2009 (8)
- January 2009 (13)
- December 2008 (12)
-
Categories
-
RSS
Entries RSS
Comments RSS
