Friday, September 9, 2011

in memoriam

once there was a rainbow



On the tenth anniversary, I’ll travel to New York,

to Manhattan near Ground Zero.

I’ve been there before


just after dust and ashes settled

atop resting heaps the Towers were.

Quiet came to me there


at the edges of the Trade Center, its

fenced in confines,

a cemetery where bodies were buried


without markers.

My nephew worked near there that day,

near enough to see death and destruction


reveal their fatal display.

He felt it. He saw it. He tasted its color.

All of it was gray.


American gray.

Manhattan gray.

A gray he hears when I ask him to meet me there.




B. Koplen 9/9/11

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