When I woke that morning
it was not to light, nor birds chirping
no, that morning I woke
to the Towers
falling
all around me
everything falling...
I already detested the 11th of each month
my own son died two and a half years ago
on the 1lth
after falling dead
on my bladder
cord accident
in the 39th prenatal week
they called him a "stillborn fetus"
not a "child"
but my son was dead all the same...
And now that morning
of this 11th day
the falling was happening all over
NY and DC
and my heart caught
with the knowing of all that those families
now face, the never
ending process of grief
and my heart caught
because I knew some
who were there or
suppose to be there--
it took a full day to find out
Steven, Anthony, Andrew
were in Midtown, not Downtown,
Bonnie and Lou
were in Aspen,
Christy
was in Memphis,
Mike
was just out
from the subway
on the street
looking up
when the 2nd plane hit
and my heart caught
when I learned
that he was okay
but in shock
covered in soot
with hundreds of others
who were told to "go home"
with no way to get home except
to walk 40, 50 blocks
uptown
across bridges
briefcases still in hand
no one talking
no one looking back...
I woke that morning
to hear the world
falling
down around us
hearts and buildings breaking
survivors making their way
one soot covered foot
in front of the other
back home
away from shock
into grief...
forever dreading
the 11th of each month
just as I do.
-Kara L.C. Jones, 2001
http://www.KotaPress.com
Dedicated to those whose lives were taken on September 11, 2001 and to Dakota Jones whose life ended on March 11, 1999.
Go To Page: 1
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Kara L.C. Jones's Poetry Therapy topic, please visit the Discussions page.