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.

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

3 Responses to “nine was was”

  1. qazse Says:

    This was posted last year. It deals with those weeks following the attack. Thanks for reading.

  2. chughes Says:

    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.

  3. qazse Says:

    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!

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