It goes by many names,
Gotham, the Metropolis of America,
a shiny beacon to the world
of possibilities.
The lady's torch illuminates
for the world to see and for me.
The lights above another harbor
Summer the opposite of winter,
the year no longer new.
I sit on the piers watching, thinking
other times roll by as I muse.
A boom, I look up lights sparkle
another year, watching the pinwheels,
star bursts, colors luminescent, infinite.
I see it all reflected in the water,
I think some more of times past.
The lady always present.