Nine Eleven O One
Lauren McBride
Jet fuel burns brilliantly
within steel and glass buildings
against a crisp September sky.
Desperate people fall silently;
more trapped inside -
Twin Towers collapse.
Thousands missing or dead.
White, caustic cloud
chases survivors away.
A star ablaze in Washington;
west wall agape –
death toll rising.
In Pennsylvania, a tree-ringed field
cradles sudden heroes.
Skies strangely empty -
only flags flying
in mourning. The world
watches, waiting - history
unfolds in present tense.
Poet’s Notes: These events speak for themselves, and we suffer the consequences yet today: among them the actions of the TSA and domestic spying. As painful as these memories are, we must never forget lest we invite history to repeat itself.
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