The Golden Door
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
yearning to be free, the retched refuse of your
teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-
tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
(as it appears on the Statue of Liberty, by Emma Lazarus)
I am an immigrant. You are an immigrant.
Whether coming to America in recent times
or many generations before, we all came from
other lands. Only a few are Native Americans.
There is an indignant underground and above
ground cry that we should allow no more
immigrants to touch this country’s shores.
Advocates propose that man's humanity to man end.
The tired, the poor, and tempest-tossed, if these
advocates have their way, would find the lamp
extinguished and a closed and locked Golden Door.
Caryl Calsyn is a retired Interior Designer with involvements in many areas including history, writing and singing groups. She has had a total of 86 poems published by nine different publications.