Liberty’s Last

Zamboni.SilouetteI

Liberty’s Last

I embraced the grassy knoll
listening for a heartbeat
even for a faint tapping of hope
a fragile sound of a memory
like the flutter of a butterfly
spoke to me of forgotten history
when men spoke kind words
about their friends and enemies.

I listened still for something more.
Instead I heard the rumble
of a laboring locomotive.
It must have been freedom
gasping its final hours.