I can’t do justice to this day in a short poem, but I couldn’t sleep last night and had to get this out:
9/11
living on the west coast
I didn’t see the first one
but I do remember that second plane
watching it on tv was like a dream
is this real?
explosions booming
streaming out smoke, fire, and pulverized debris
thought I saw the building shaking
and people jumping or falling
from way up high
then I saw the collapse
twin towers imploding
crashing down to ground zero
the stories in the media pinched me
nightmare became reality
life’s losses tolling
first responders bravely
and gravely giving their all
reports of survivors scrambling out
but still helping each other escape
carrying a disabled lady down the steps
wheelchair and all
cell phones flash-lighting
through corridors’ darkness
I saw a lady emerge from the smoke
a thick layer of gray dust
covering her head to toe
the whites of her eyes
and her coughing
as proof of life
I saw tears in the eyes of reporters
and heard their voices quivering
was this all a dream?
or a Hollywood-like fabrication?
I only saw this on tv
and can’t imagine the horror
of actually being there
the moment when they realized
they were going to die
the last thoughts on their minds
first hand sights, sounds, and smells
sensory details impossible
for survivors to forget
I saw stories on the news
of a third plane crash
a box cutter highjacking
cellphones bidding good byes
to loved ones
as the plane descended
onto the Pentagon
I remember fearing a U.S. retaliation
thoughts percolating
of how the world had changed forever
Del Maximo
(c)09/11/2021