i wasn’t in town the day
the two towers fell
when every TV monitor and talking head
showed the final death knell

instead i was in the mountains
surrounded by trees and smoke
of sage and sweetgrass meant to clear
the fear draped over us like a cloak

i wouldn’t see the graphic images
nor hear the anguished cries on repeat
instead i learned to meditate among the trees
remove myself from ego and conceit

until i returned three weeks later
and found only deathly silence and fear
from the airport lounge to the taxi cab
i prayed love would soon reappear

you’re one of the lucky ones, the driver said
for you missed seeing it all
dreadful scenes playing again and again
an unforgiving endless pall

nineteen years later, here we are again
reminding others to never ever forget
not just of the loss, but of the heroes who appeared
the ones who never left.