September 11 Poem

I wrote this shortly after the towers fell. I just found it in my old Franklin-Covey planner and thought I'd better type it up before I lost it.


Nine Eleven

I sat in those chairs
held onto the handrail of the escalator
thumbed through the books
rode the elevator to the top.

I remember spending an afternoon
in awe at the vistas
looked out the windows from the top
waiting for sunset
so I could see the night view too.

Walked the tiles.
My DNA lingered thedre.
When the towers came down,
I felt the loss immediately.

What of the suicide pilots?
Their ashes also mingle
with the victims'...
and have become part of American soil.