a poem by Brian Doyle on September 11

i wouldn’t have guessed that it would move me so.  after all these years, after all this time: war without end.  but i was a howling, awful mess, holding the sleeping baby and listening to the poem.

but it is a poem after all.  so much packed into those short, common lines.

i was on my way to work and overheard people talking about planes.  i thought something had happened at the airport.  so when i got to work, i  turned on the t.v.–the one we watch Mister Rogers on.  then i called Andy and told him to get our t.v. out of the closet and turn it on.  and we watched those people falling, jumping out of the burning Towers, their small bodies dark against the immense blue sky.

One Comment

  1. missing all of you I never knew
    testament to love in the face of unspeakable death…
    a free fall to the other side
    goodbye again and again

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