Never Forget

A warm and clear September morning
Spirits high to greet the day
Autumn sits on the horizon
Deep in thought along the way

Glance at two familiar landmarks
Ever present never missed
Taking both of them for granted
For a lifetime they’d exist

Languid waters of the Hudson
forever flowing at their base
Catch the shimmering reflection
of two Towers in the haze.

Rising upward, square and steadfast
gray and daunting, lacking flair
Yet, they cry out to be noticed
Raise your eyes up if you dare!

Looming large to guard the harbor
Brazen bulwarks standing tall
Moments left to gaze upon them
Moments left before they’d fall.

Navigating through the madness
Conscious only of the hour
Escalator to the concourse
In the belly of one Tower.

Moving numbly, tracing footsteps
through the corporate maze once more
Journey over, plodding onward
focused only on the plans in store.

Muffled voices in the background
Guarded whispers barely heard
Worried looks on countless faces
Speaking volumes without words.

On the street now, gazing upward
gaping wound bleeds blackened plumes.
Sirens grow to a crescendo.
Terror reigns as flames consume.

Hearts are racing, mass confusion
Some respond while others flee.
Feelings range from fear to anger
in the wake of tragedy.

Scarcely time to grasp what’s happened.
Billowing smoke blocks out the sun.
What seems like torrents of confetti
cascade down from Tower One.

On the ground, acts of compassion
High above, hopes slowly fade.
Worn armies of beleaguered heroes
climb ceaselessly to lend their aid.

While this scene is still unfolding
from the south and in full view
incomprehensible revulsion.
Deathly strike on Tower Two.

Anguished hearts relive the sorrow.
Where were you that fateful day?
Some were spared to face tomorrow
Others too soon passed away.

We search within to grope for reasons.
Human frailty...anger....hate?
Logic fails our quest for answers
Too profound to contemplate.

The eleventh of September.
A nation mourns each passing year.
We cannot comprehend the losses.
We cannot stem the flow of tears.

Ethereal souls look down upon us.
Their names inscribed on parapets
that frame the footprints of two towers
so that we may never forget.