Monday, April 8, 2013

Day 6


For today’s prompt, write a post poem. Post could be short for post office–or traditional mail. Post could be a wood or metal post. Or post could mean relate to words like postpone, post-punk, or whatever.

Post Post 911

We move around the memorials,
The footprints of the towers.

Each, like each of our lives,
has a black square chasm in its center.
Elegant and terrifying.
Into this everything,
from all sides
all shimmering banks of falling.
Falls.
This is Death
And this is clear.
The absolute condition
Of No, of falling,
Ongoing, even when we turn away.
Or look up
To imagine what was.
This is loss, never-ending.
One cannot see the bottom.
From any side,
Or know if there is one.

And yet it is finished.
We are here.  Even though I push her in a wheelchair.
We do not cry.
I look for one particular name but do not find it.
I look around every side of the memorial but do not find it.

I find 'Angel'
And that will do.

We are hungry and we will eat.





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