A teacher, who spent 9-1-1 in their bouncy seat, asked students, yet to be a twinkle in their parents' hearts, to interview someone who was able to remember that day.
I might have shared my prayers
This was not the end of the world
Her boyfriend did not die,
His son was not at work,
She was uptown, he was late,
An adult would meet each child,
I might have prayed for those
Signing up to end terrorism
Breathing the poisoned air
Left to carry on after loss of
Lives, innocence.
A brilliant sunrise,
Planes bent on destruction,
Lives lost instantly, others
Destroyed slowly, all
Changed forever
Today, darkened skies prevail
Shattered lives remain,
As we remember
1 comment:
This is so hauntingly real. Your poem has the aura of the loss, the absence, the robbery of lives and joy and happiness replaced by grief and sorrow. I can hear the weeping, sobbing, wailing of wives, mothers, husbands, fathers, children, and hear the gasps of horror from all who witnessed these moments. I was in a second grade classroom when the towers fell. Your poem takes me back and reminds me that heaven holds forever, and there is the promise of reunion for those who believe.
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