Ellis By John C. Mannone

The ocean liner sloshes into the Hudson, weary

from churning the Atlantic swells and storms.

The Lady stands tall above water, gracing skyline.

Her thin smile ever-present, even in fog. Her eyes,

soft sea green, don’t see a single smudge on tired ships:

soot-smeared stacks; rust battle-scarred waterline.

She waves at my dad, a young boy clinging to the rail,

breathing in crisp salt air with that copper taste

of freedom.