beacon herself welcomes us. Green goddess in the harbor, bearing light and knowledge. Her grotto is the open sky, the water is her shrine, appearing to the faithful with dignity divine. Grave and peaceful, calm and holy, she stands at the nation’s door.
The ferry slows, the ramp swings down. A hundred faces wondershown: awe, delight, craning necks, clasping hands, chewing gum, lug the sliding baby, rumpled pamphlets, shrieks of laughter from the girls. Chiffon scarves fluttering, fluttering.
Rubber legs on terra firma. Up steps and steps and steps, wide grey group steps.
Lighted displays in the pedestal, sepia photographs—not now! not now! To the top to the top!
Black and many stairs, wrought iron. We are not in a building, but a woman. Race to the top to see whom she attracts.
Gigantic folds of gown softly corrugate the space. Look, there’s the book, that’s the torch! We are up so high my body is reverberating. My thighs retract my knees.
This single skinny black steel rail spiraling out the orangelit green is all that holds me from downward spiral. That, and absolute knowledge I will not fall. Death is offered us in many moments. We refuse it every time but once.
I do not even need the rail.
◊◊◊
Lady Liberty, Lady Liberty, who’s inside your noble face? We whirl in your brain, Lady L. Here in her head, we are Liberty’s dream.
Gaze at the green horizon. See the hazy town. Glide with the garbage barges. Green grass patches all round.
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