that day, those towers — a tiny poem

the flames, the endless flames

our eyes, from a different coast watching

the horror of the bodies falling, freefall into air

the dust

the ashen

walking

the firemen, saviors

the tears

our nation’s darkest day

what grows in ash?

what phoenix can arise

afterwards the flags

the thousands of flags, the cars enraged as they drove

the tanks that rolled

the torture that unfolded

ten years after

even darker here

the American heart

war, wounded

the boys without legs, without arms

who holds them in the dark?

~

we mourn our dead

we rise ghostly from such ash

look to each other

for what we remember best

a childhood full of cowboys and indians in vacant lots

a pledge of allegiance

red stripes, white stars, a blue field

a torch upheld

the price of war

how terrible that cost

~

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