This Poem was Submitted By: Laura Lee Scott On Date: 2002-09-11 15:09:06 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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September 11 in Moscow, Idaho

2000 miles  three time zones and a warm bed away from Ground Zero our alarm clock tolled and the first Tower of People fell amidst televised panamonium scraping toast annoyed by black flecks snowing on my kitchen counter i desensitized watching a 
-inch screen convincingly depict the surreal  a clip from a high-budget flick we’d critique later at a more convenient time over cafe mochas “this one went too far,” i’d declare as if I know something–anything–about realism in movies   out here, repetition sank denial like a stone breaks surface water replaying gratuitous violence and great ash for those who’d been  caught in the shower now glued, now late for work  repetition rippled   as some already out there, unknowingly bought gas and   bottled juice and Lotto tickets  feeling lucky dreaming of their millions and where they’d rather be repetition rippled  as the rest of us  huddled catatonic in rooms stitched together  by chair-linked, chorused news “Turn it up!” you shouted as if volume equaled truth  repetition rippled   from those pixelated planes carrying Innocence and Evil  a prop of steel and eggshell windows  revealing nothing  before shattered lives snowed on city streets like us, perhaps, some had eaten toast reading news of far-off places leaving a bit of crust thinking of where they’d rather be reaching for another sip caught with their mouth full perhaps some stood and watched and thought of bad movies they’d shut off a ripple-less denial pause before  getting back to work eternally unaware how well giant stones make nightmares of neighborhoods no, the ground didn’t shake in northern idaho but our bodies did as if systematically  echoing epic tragedy from the inside out remote controlled heartache  sets in more slowly than a streetside view of death  but once programmed it washes us with slack-jawed grief  regarding those  we’ll never know and unrestorable innocence and toast we’ll never eat again without thoughts of willing jumpers once programmed  the ripple of that day becomes a nation's fluid heartbeat paused and then replayed paused                                        and then replayed 

Copyright © September 2002 Laura Lee Scott

Additional Notes:
This is a work-in-progress, but, even so, I had to share my feelings before this day is over. I hope that whatever your life encompasses today--Sept. 11, 2002--you can know a sense of peace, strength, and hope.


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