September 11

I haven't really, truly reflected on 9/11 in quite some time, even though it has become a part of my--our--frame of reference. Today I thought about it again--where I was, what I was doing, the unfolding, unbelievable horror of it. We were living in Bellevue, Washington at the time. I will never, never forget that day.

A cloudless blue sky
goes silent.
I look out my window
at Lake Washington,
glassy and calm,
reflecting leaves just beginning
to turn colors.
Beyond that lies the tree-lined ridge
of Mercer Island,
above which no planes fly today.
Far away, on another island,
towers of steel and glass
and the people in them
are consumed by fire
and turned to dust.
The ground under our feet
has given way;
all of creation has become
a glossy, autumnal crypt.