September 11, 2001
You were in my arms, my baby boy, being rocked to sleep as a five day old needs:
warm, sleepy, and safe in your loving human cradle.
Daddy at work, a brother at school, and another young brother still asleep in a cozy crib,
a routine morning for us in the heartland.
Katie and Matt were on the telly, laughing with Al, as they usually did.
A cup of tea, a warm house, a September morning.
I watched as a plane flew into a tall building in New York City, my mouth gapping open.
What just happened? I asked myself.
It has to be a movie trailer or a sick joke, I thought.
Soon, mere minutes later, the full terror would be known.
Another plane, another skyscraper, hoards of humanity running aimlessly on city streets
and thick black smoke billowing from two brilliant glass buildings.
First responders rushing to the burning buildings. There to help. To save. To extinguish.
Don’t go in, you silently direct them, knowing that they will.
Some come out, many do not.
Families loose mothers, daughters, sons, husbands, grandfathers, aunts, uncles, grandmothers, and friends. No one is safe. No one understands what happened,
except for the terror it all.
We learn of a third plane, hijacked and aimed for our protectors at the pentagon.
Bravery ensues in the air as regular “Joe’s” become hero’s of the day forever more.
Many lives are lost in the incomprehensible destruction on our soil.
Through the rubble there’s a flag being hoisted.
America, the home of the brave, will never be the same.
Today is Poetry Friday. It is also the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks in New York City and Pennsylvania. Three planes, three destroyers vs. the indelible and indestructible American Spirit. If you were alive on 9/11/2001, you most likely remember what you were doing that morning when the planes struck the Twin Towers. I know I remember. My poem recounts the vividness of what I can recall from that day. I’ve always been very grateful that my boys were too young to understand what was happening that day so long ago. I don’t know if I would have had words to explain. I know we kept the television off for quite a while after after the 9/11 attacks unless our boys were napping. How do you explain something you don’t understand yourself? How do you explain that level of hate?
We are American. We live. We Fight for Freedom.
Today’s host is Kiesha Shepard from Whispers on the Ridge blog. Many thanks go to her for hosting! Please check out her page for links to more poetry!
The Apples in My Orchard 
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