by Richard Schnap
She lay there in the nursing home
As the fireworks embroidered the sky
A tapestry of fiery scarlet
Casting shadows on the room’s white walls
The heart monitor’s steady beeping
Competed with the festive explosions
One for the release of a nation
One for the release of a soul
She died early next morning
And the machines were taken away
As downtown the workers collected
The debris of the holiday crowds
And I’ve always wondered if even
In the grip of her morphine haze
She felt proud to be independent
And free from the world’s restraints
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