September 11, 2001

by
Robert Spencer Knotts


Why?

They shattered our glass sky,
and three thousand human shards
tumbled through holes made in
jetcraft silhouettes.

Did you see them disappear?
Did you ask the question?

Not for Jesus or Abraham this time.
Not for the swastika, the rising sun
or even the crescent moon.
You may not like the answer.
But if you would look,
turn inward.

Find the hovel where all
your secret rage demands explanations.
Find the streetcorner where all
your hidden self-contempt begs for revenge.
Find the cave where all
your private fears grovel for redemption.

Try then, if you can, to imagine
this cacophony of desperation
without respite or reprieve,
listening always to those morning prayers
and evening exhortations,
a permanent dissonance
with all silence, all peace denied,
long denied,
too long denied.

Until now.
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(Copyright (c) 2002, Robert Spencer Knotts. All rights reserved)