The Next Day (September 12)
Images from Wikimedia Commons
The next day of life:Sorrow rising with the sunA broken heart mourns
Memories of you:A kiss under candlelightOur daughter's first smile
Clothes in the closetSleeping in an empty bed:An intense longing
Faces on billboardsFlags unmoving in the breeze:Two towers, falling
One among thousandsLying in a smoky grave:Irreplaceable
A river of dreams:Thoughts of a different lifeI shall not forget
Our children playing:Moments of laughter and joyLove lasts forever
Rain striking windowsSunset on the horizon:Life begins again
Licenced under a Creative Commons Licence
I almost can't believe it has been seven years since 9/11. It's gone so quickly; the memories and emotions are still so raw. And yet so much has happened in the seven years. It feels like a different world now; less innocent and sure of itself. That one moment changed so much.
I still remember it so clearly. My parents told me there had been an explosion at the World Trade Center; I came through to watch just as the second plane struck. For hours we just sat there, feeling helpless and numb. My thoughts went to my friends in America and while they were okay, it seemed like everyone knew someone who had been affected by the attacks.
What I remember most about 9/11 is actually the following day, September 12. As it happened during our night there wasn't much information available until the 12th our time. All during that day, wherever you went, people were stunned. That an attack like 9/11 might happen somewhere had always been a grim possibility but the extent was beyond anyone's worst fears.
As time passed we heard about the signs people missed but I try not to think about them too much. I don’t think anything could have stopped 9/11; contained the damage, perhaps, but not stopped it. While knowing where the agencies and bureaucracy went wrong is important, it’s easy to focus on that so much that we forget the human impact as well.
Almost 3000 people died on 9/11 but it means so much more than that... the husbands and wives who never went home, the fire fighters and police officers who gave their lives. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to live with the grief the families must still feel... to watch your child grow up without their mother or father. It must be heart-breaking.
I started to write this poem for last year's anniversary but it was never quite what I wanted it to be. I'm happier with it now; I decided to post it on the 12th instead as it's about the day after the attacks and learning to live with the grief. I hope it is a respectful tribute to the people who died and their families. May we never forget them.