(with apologies to Emma Lazarus)  

Lady Liberty limps away from her stone
foundation, leaves her lamp beside the
golden door. Her green-bronze robes
rustle as she lumbers off, book of the law
under her arm, to stride across the land.
This Mother of Exiles no longer sees
the wretched refuse at our shore. Her
plea to ancient lands is silenced.
Teeming with anger she has witnessed
huddled masses at the courthouse doors,
round-ups, hooded menace choking
breath. Another brazen giant threatens
and she ponders where she must strike
anew with her imprisoned lightning.