What is it we remember of that day?
Seeing those images for the first time
And then again, again. The numbers climb-
passengers, workers, firemen. So much grey
that day – the skies, the grey of choking dust,
the steel grey of planes as they flew in
to towers that were silver grey.We’ve been
tired for nine years now of the tearful trust
that was abused in memory of the dead
who burned, or choked or had to fall and die.
Their deaths undoubted truth spun like a lie.
So many innocents for those deaths bled.
On that grey day so many crimes were born.
We could have chosen different ways to mourn.