The light of the world
flickers faintly and fades.
In autumn's grey shadows
hushed voices make hymns...
A cloak of sadness
cloisters the old refrains,
and each of us wonders...
will life ever...be the same?
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 4:35 PM UTC
The light of the world
flickers faintly and fades.
In autumn's grey shadows
hushed voices make hymns...
A cloak of sadness
cloisters the old refrains,
and each of us wonders...
will life ever...be the same?
KMColby@2001/ this poem has been printed many times in last few years in hard copy.
The day that deaths long shadow hung over our land the streets in Seattle were empty. Smalls groups of people whispered on street corners. We all wanted to hug eachother on the bus. I was in the tunnel that morning going to work and someone said a plane was headed to Seattle. The horror,,,This was not just New York's tragedy or the heroism of flight 93...it belonged to all of us. And when the tears came they would not stop.