Losing A Friend

Posted on September 11, 2022 by purplepeninportland 
Written for:  Sunday Muse #227

"This week is a double theme.  It is in tribute to Queen Elizabeth II and American Chess Day is Sept 1st.  I had some chess moves in images saved for one week. So here we are! I also know that this weekend is the 21 year anniversary of Sept 11th.  My heart goes out to the families and friends that lost someone that day.  I will never forget that day and where I was.  If anyone wants to share about where they were that day when they heard the news, I would love to hear your story."


Blue
skies.
I'm late,
stuck on bus
at mouth of tunnel
because dog refused to come in.
I'm staring out window at Building One where I work.
Flames in the air crash into my building.  I watch it crumble kicking dust in the air.  
We stare.  Bus stops.  I would have been at my desk.
From seat, I see Building Two burn, collapsing like a cardboard dollhouse.  For days I check listings.
I stay glued to TV set, waiting.  His name does not appear on list of people found alive.  I see other names of people I know–gone.  His body is never discovered.  At funeral, a picture stands on an easel.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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25 Responses to Losing A Friend

  1. Helen says:
    September 11, 2022 at 12:58 am

    Your poetry is sobering, I cannot imagine the terror, pain, helplessness so many felt that day. All these years later, that pain remains, is real.

    Like

  3. Jim says:
    September 11, 2022 at 2:03 am

    Nice putting yourself into the shoes of a survivor.
    We stayed glued that day also. Mrs. Jim was out playing golf
    that day, with three other ladies. One said, what can we do?
    Mrs. Jim, the senior lady, said calmly, “We can pray.” Pray they
    did, one was Jewish, another a Buddhist, and I can’t remember
    about the other. Right there, on the golf course, they each
    took a turn praying.
    ..

    Like

  5. Carrie V. H. says:
    September 11, 2022 at 12:06 pm

    Oh Sara this broke my heart! Such a tragedy for everyone but for some it was a loss that hit home.💔 Sending you hugs today. 💙💙

    Like

  6. wyndolynne says:
    September 11, 2022 at 12:42 pm

    Taking a deep breath and re-reading, making this part of the silence of the day.

    Like

  7. dorahak says:
    September 11, 2022 at 6:50 pm

    Hopes and buildings crumbling into dust __ You capture the sorrow so profoundly.
    ~Dora

    Like

  8. Rosemary Nissen-Wade says:
    September 12, 2022 at 1:41 am

    Wow! Unimaginable. You, even more than most, would never be the same again. Beautifully written. I am glad you were spared, for many reasons including to remember your friend and remind us in poetry of what matters.

    Like

  9. msjadeli says:
    September 12, 2022 at 4:37 pm

    Sara, states away was too close, to have so narrowly escaped death yourself and to have lost loved ones there is unthinkable. Your dear dog knew somehow to keep you home.

    Like

  10. Susie Clevenger says:
    September 12, 2022 at 8:49 pm

    Yes, sobering poetry. I was at my oldest sister’s house. My husband had gone to the grocery store, and came flying through the front door yelling, “The US is under attack, turn on the television! The three of us stood in front of the TV learning about the strike on the first tower when the second plane make its horrible strike. It was so surreal. I couldn’t believe it was real.

    Like

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