‘9-11’, a poem, posted for d’versepoets.com

 

9-11

On that beautiful morning

With a tease of tender Autumn in the air

The  unthinkable happened,

And our world stopped turning.

I saw the plane, I saw the fire

I saw the smoke descend –

A blanket of blinding grief

Too late to spare those on the ground

The sight of Armageddon.

–

Mortar-grey people transformed

Into gritty moving statues,

Holding hands, blinded by smoke,

Moved down streets where

Paper, bricks, metal, glass rained down

Like the Devil’s Ticket Parade,

Walked in silence towards the bridges,

Barely a moan heard I am told,

A nightmare Exodus  on this

Morning of such seasonal promise.

–

I saw worse.

I saw people jump

From the ledges holding hands,

Some clutching  briefcases

And all I could do

Was howl:

–

“I will catch you!

Jump into my arms

I will not drop you.

Do not be afraid,

Aim for my embracing arms,

With the last of my life—

I will catch you.”

–

That day of fire and ash,

Inexplicable funeral pyre,

Of  brave souls rushing in

And frightened ones rushing out

And the ash, the ash, the ash,

Covered everything like a silent September snow.

–

Ten years later

Still grieving,  this day approaches,

And I hear the words well up in me:

–

“We will catch you!

Jump into our arms,

We will not drop you.

You will not be forgotten,

With the last of our breath–

We will catch you.”

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 9-11-2011