Off to work, along the street
traffic heavy this am, burp of cereal
a signal of what's to come-
elevator crowded, coffee hot
Sally is pregnant and New York's
North Tower visits another day
work pile awaits, sun bright
shimmering Tower Two waves
back in glorious splendor.
Then the unthinkable, from the street
an impossible view, something
causes an explosion; a plane? A bomb?
Then strumming feet are hasty on
the stairwells
rushing down, and down
not knowing why, just move quickly
to safety
and all the time, captive victims
face flames on the top floor, awakened to
the crackle of approaching death,
cell-phone cries of
love travel to distant homes
where families listen, with terror
and sad thoughts, memories of precious
voices, and a pair of shoes found later
far below
