One Day in September
By Donna Andersen
Sunlight breaks the grayness as we row upon the bay
Herons, gulls and egrets barely glance as we glide by
They're the creatures, at this hour, that rule the brightening sky
These mornings are a treasure, Mary and I agree
Ten o'clock my meeting is all scheduled to begin
Everyone is staring at a radio as I walk in
The peak of New York City has exploded into fire
Thick, black smoke is billowing from our economic spire
Do we work? Do we stop? Are they getting out?
Message light is blinking -- where are you? Are you there?
Are your brothers in New York today? Is your sister in the air?
Cell phones are not working -- have you seen the awful news?
What on earth is happening? Has anyone a clue?
Yes, the TV's on, but I can't absorb the scene
News uninterrupted, it's bad and getting worse
Crash into the towers -- the idea is so perverse
Ten thousand in each edifice had just begun their day
Now a pile of rubble -- and all I can do is pray
Let there be survivors, please; God, we need you now
Jet slams into shining glass
The hundredth time today
Another angle, another shot
Let's review that play
But this is not a game
Fires burning, twisted steel, it's such an wrenching sight
Sweetheart, please come over, I can't be alone tonight
Earlier this morning it was birds that ruled the sky
Now it's raining jet fuel -- why did they have to die?
All those lonely pillows in so many empty beds
Family and friends are safe, but I can't catch my breath
Two degrees of separation keep me from knowing death
Mary's childhood classmate was one who called his wife
From up above the fire, hoping vainly for his life
Never did I know him, yet still I feel the loss
Countless private tragedies just add to my distress
How can I stop crying, ease the tension in my chest?
My brothers at ground zero passed buckets hand to hand
The president promises that America will take a stand
I am just a writer, searching desperately for words
Holes punched in our confidence, life forever changed
But this I know from experience: Good can come from pain
Our hearts have been ripped open, yet open hearts can feel
Compassion for each other may be the gift of this ordeal
Pray it is a turning point in our human history
Search for justice underway
Portends a mourning dove
In the end, there's love and fear
And fear is lack of love
Our caring may be our hope
Photo by Tracy Andersen
September 7, 2001
