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Bodies are falling from the sky today
electing to die in mid-air
away from the furnace of an office
aflame
with 200 tons of jet fuel
After the collapse
billowing Godzillas of smoke
tumble through city alleyways
chasing pedestrians with soot
pecking at their arms, cheeks
and shoeless feet with shards
of what used to be
windows
on the world
Charred bones
settle on the rooftops
of nearby hotels and restaurants
as stunned figures inch across
a suspension bridge - a modern
Trail of Tears - fleeing
the capital of the Civilized World
on foot
Above, a sea
of white
insurance records - no two alike -
flutters over downtown
Manhattan
but this is not a snow day
There is something pure
about snow days
the way they unite
the way they turn
have tos into can’ts
work into play
errands into family lore
how they suggest we take ourselves
less seriously
because we cannot
for one fleeting moment
conquer the natural world
today is not a snow day
Today, the teeming cancellations
and evacuations
which scroll across the bottom
of American televisions
in yellow type
are joyless
After breakfast
the invincible Twin Towers
were blown down
like the houses
of two little pigs
who used steel and concrete
in the wake of a bigger, badder wolf
and we feel pain in places we didn’t
know our patriotism ran
The World Trade Center
and Pentagon are burning
tourist delights now raining ash
metaphors of might
landmarks for children raised
in a nation where maps and skylines
until today
were immutable
this is not a snow day
This is terror
a merciless affront
to those safeties one must
take for granted in order to conduct
the healthy, productive living of a life
and I understand for the first time
what a veteran must, someone
whose ease has forever been pierced
by the imminent needle of danger
And I understand today
what any victimized human must -
Israeli, Croatian, Bosnian, Rwandan -
anyone powerless
to protect their children
There are Americans, too,
who live in derelict neighborhoods
near the targets
of this morning’s attacks
who have never felt safe
in their lives
As firefighters become trapped
under rubble and glass, their
hoses mangled, our
hearts burn
watching the networks
close around this nightmare
like the clenched, unified fingers
of a fist
And our president says
we will “hunt down the folks
who committed this act”
but “folks”
run general stores
and bingo tournaments
“folks”
do not rip through skyscrapers
in hijacked airplanes
filled with passengers
“folks”
do not deliberately
shatter the rhythm
of natural affairs
Planes have been grounded
borders closed, ballgames postponed
theme parks shut down
and embassies cleaned out
like spring cupboards
But before America was closed today
we had a fire drill
at the school where I teach
it was 8:15 a.m., 30 minutes
before history was made
and the secretaries joked
that they’d burn with the building
when I asked
if they were coming outside
It was all so nonchalant, our quick
quiet march to the great lawn
teachers propping open doors
and administrators
holding walkie-talkies to their ears
it wasn’t a real fire
though it could have been;
today we are all at ground zero
Yet we cannot half-live our lives
for fear of the end - cannot hyperventilate
from one headline to the next
The record of human strength
is too thick, the opportunity
this tragedy presents too important
to bungle, as we approach a day
when all heads of state will
recognize what is so clear
from a distance - that we
are one people
But tonight, our phone calls made
eyes swollen and TV’s blackened
as taxi companies rip out back seats
for dead bodies
on their way to makeshift morgues
we cannot begin to recall
the naive, blissful liberty
of a snow day
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