May 7, 2008
By Kate Melymuk, Waterloo, ZZ

Freedom's not sun-sprayed legions of victory
that weave through streets lost in former oppression.
It's not the end of some bygone depression
or adorning fresh pearls of new liberty.
Don't view it as archways of infinite choice
where you trample a telling mold of yourself,
find boughs of potention by floating on wealth,
or manipulate gears of teh world with your voice.
It's not opening arms to the great divine
through breathless exaltations that fall unreserved.
It's not something sweet that's unoaked and preserved
or a transforming take in the bowels of time.
It's to see in your eyes something shared, understood
and smiling, without speaking, when I knew you would.

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