Poetry Friday--9/11

I was speaking with someone the other day who mentioned that her mother's birthday is September 11, and ever since 2001, the family has celebrated the birthday on another day.

9/11 was a powerful event in every American's life, and it still has its consequences.

Perhaps, the only good that came out of the 9/11 event was that it inspired many people to pick up a pen and to write. In many cases, what came out was poetry.

In 2001 I had been writing haiku for years, but, I never wrote Poetry (with a capital "P" as opposed to verse with a small "v"). For me, too, 9/11 was indelibly printed in my memory, and I was compelled to write about one of the haunting visuals from Manhattan.

ACROSS TO BROOKLYN

Snow came early that year
even though the calendar
had yet to mark autumn.
On a Tuesday morning
the sun rose into
a vivid crayola sky,
the clouds puffy as if
drawn by a child.
No one could have known
how quickly summer would pass.

A thunderclap,
then another,
signaled the start
of a new winter.
A terrific wind
released the flurry.
The sky filled with
snowflakes floating,
twirling, almost dancing
across to Brooklyn.

There was no ice
in these flakes,
yet the chill was tangible.
No crystalline patterns—
just the names of strangers,
facts and figures,
corporate logos,
and private matters,
on 8 1/2 by 11 inch
pieces of paper.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved

After writing my 9/11 poem, I continued to write, a little poem here, another there. I hope that others, too, continued to write.

About.com maintains a page, "Poems After the Attack," which they republish every September. If you can bear the memory, read a few of the poems.

Check out the Poetry Friday Round-Up at Wild Rose Reader.