nine was was
September 9, 2007
It seemed a time of respect.
Skies were skies,
no chalky lines
of jet smoke –
only bird and cloud and flag.
Terrorism
was not yet entertainment.
Booty and bullets
disappeared from the screen.
Reflection and restraint
seemed a collective value.
Never to return,
we lived briefly
in the eye of a blood storm
qazse 
September 9, 2007 at 10:19 pm
This was posted last year. It deals with those weeks following the attack. Thanks for reading.
September 10, 2007 at 10:44 am
This is an accurate description of those still days. It was like suddenly, briefly, we all knew what mattered, what was real. For a few days, we were not so distracted by b.s.
One of the things i remember very clearly was the silence in the air. Living near Ontario National Airport at that time, it was freaky, the lack of airplane noise.
The title of this poem is excellent, fitting. The poem itself, insightful.
September 10, 2007 at 1:14 pm
Christine, I am glad you remember that time. Many have forgotten. “Those still days” captures it so well. ( an excellent title for a poem or film! )
I live in an almost-rural area of Northeast Pennsylvania. There is a flyway high above us. I rarely hear noise from up there but it often paints the sky with tinsel.
I used to visit a neighborhood close to JFK airport. It is remarkable how soon we acclimate to noise on the superficial level.
Thanks for the comments!