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Only Smoke
They said it was only smoke,
Smoke from the fallen Towers.
But it was acrid and dark,
Its tendrils choking for days.
They didn't, though, tell the truth.
The dark truth that we all knew
About the smoke and the stench.
It was the smell of bodies.
A nightmare, charnal odor
Of people, unburied yet mourned.
Men and women sacrificed
To a god of fire and smoke,
Of gunpowder and of bombs.
A god who wears a fright mask.
A dark deity of fear.
They said it was only smoke.
Smoke from the fallen Towers.
[from "The City" collective]
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Dear John,
Thanks for your comment.
I was pretty close....I live in the Bronx and we had that smoke for days.
I will be sure to check out that poem of yours you reference.
Again, many thanks.
James |
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Comment by: JED3 - 2008-09-15 09:41
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James: Sounds like you too were there, September 11, 2001. I wrote one about this day as well, in my collection. ("The Aperture of Eternity")
Days later at home in Setauket, Long Island, I could still smell the acrid smell you describe, engraved in the smoke now crawling eastward. Your poem hit a cord and resonated my olfactory.
Best wishes,
John Doyle |
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Dear Amber,
Thanks so much for your comment.
Hey, I have a few relatives in Rochester...
Anyway, I look forward to reading your writings.
All my best,
James |
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| We'll never forget that day. Amazing your words truly touched me. |
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Dear Amber,
Thanks so much for your comment.
I have been guilt sometimes of showing too much emotion in certain poems--so I tried pretty hard to be as stark--almost shell-shocked--which is how I and many actually felt.
Again, thanks.
Best,
James |
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