Twenty years ago I was glued to my television screen. More than likely you were too. I went back to my journal of that day to see what I had recorded.
On 9/11 I'd written a poem.
The first title I gave the poem was Winter Ash. Later, I crossed out the 'sh' and put a letter 'k' where the 'sh' was, making the title, Winter Ask.
In the midst of darkness
they walked
seeing no one
the dust from the explosion
thick and unyielding
their eyes blinded
a death-walk of some kind
whited cheeks
dusty clothing and hair
they grieved
Hours later the dust still gathered
around their fingernails
winter ash
felt its way through buildings
plundered, people killed
a mark of death
and yet
fingers clutched and held
spoke words of help
of love
In the heavens there was one
who watched
who grieved
who reached through the clouds
to all who could hear
and see
This poem is probably not the best poem about 9/11 but it is mine, and I share it today with a prayer in my heart for all who suffered on that never-to-be-forgotten day.
