My Faults My Own

One's ponens is another's tollens.

A Verse for the City

From the top of the towers,  
    you could see past the narrows,
        past our lady of the harbor,
      to the broad, open sea.
See the curve of the earth  
    on the vast, blue horizon
        from the world’s greatest city,
      in the land of the free.

All the brave men and women  
    that you never would notice,
        from the precincts and fire halls---
      the first on the scene.
Storming into the buildings  
    on the side of the angels,
        they were gone in an instant,
      in the belly of the beast.

We are children of slavery,  
   children of immigrants,
      remnants of tribes and their tired refugees.
As they tumbled down,  
   we were stronger together—
      stronger than we ever knew we could be—
         as strong as that statue that stands for the promise
of liberty here in this city of dreams.

All the flags on front porches  
    and banners of unity
        spanning the bridges
      from the top of the fence—
as we heal up the wounds  
    and take care of each other,
        there’s more love in this nation
      than hate and revenge.

We are children of slavery,  
   children of immigrants,
      remnants of tribes and their tired refugees.
As the walls tumble down,  
   we are stronger together—
      stronger than we ever knew we could be—
         as strong as that statue that stands for the promise
of liberty here in this city of dreams.

(City of Dreams © David Wilcox; cover image © SOM)

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