Memories of New York - A Poem Without Borders

Of Thee I Sing Too The MTA of New York City, filled with expressionless riders, primarily of One color—brown. Exhausted faces looking at no one. Grandson struggles to avoid the sleeping, homeless man who keeps leaning Precariously close to his shoulder. Miraculously, at the next stop a youthful red-haired, one-man-band of a man Begins to sing and play his harmonica while clanging the cymbals Attached to his worn out jeans with holes. The also worn faces in the car awake and begin to smile not only at the singer but also to each other. A boat ride to Liberty Island and Ellis Island this lovely-lit Friday afternoon, Mashed and compacted like subway riders riding endlessly below The city skyline, holding on to the poles as the boat sways one way And then another. Is this the way the immigrants felt as they crossed the ocean in their bid for A forever freedom? Until . . . at last . . . they were greeted by the famed Statue of Liberty and Began swelling with hope and joy to find a friend in America. The ever-present silent mime at the corner of Central Park, always willing To pose with all who would but contribute $3 to the bucket, Dressed as the Statue of Liberty with her torch held high, Face and draping clothes painted silver, Covering grandson with an American flag as he joyfully grins for the camera. The golden bull of a statue representing the perhaps forever gone times of Wall Street, Hoards of crowds hovering to get a photograph to take home. The commericialism of the 5th Avenue and Times Square shopping areas As herds of tiny children pose by giant, savory, chocolate Easter bunnies at Dylan’s Candy Bar or a massive Lego Chewbacca In FAO Swartz or the T-Rex in Toys R Us. Grandson ecstatic as he fills his candy jar full of M & M’s, jelly beans, Jolly Ranchers, and other delights. Is our country great or what? America, of thee I sing too.