I heard a woman wonder
if there will ever
be a tomorrow,
if her baby
will have a world
to live in.
As I watch the infinite loop
of television footage--one burning
tower, plane crash, collapse,
one burning, two burning, dust,
one, two, none--I
can’t find an answer.
How can I tell her no--
though the only rational
answer in this moment
of fearful unbelief, of floating,
unsure of ever again
reaching solid
ground.
If I tell her yes--
what seems like a definite
lie--what world
can she expect?
Endless fear, distrust,
random, unjustified
hate.
I don’t know, don’t have
her answers. I only see
her new born child,
unable to remember the world
of before--her amber
eyes dim with the ashy sky,
delicate fingers reaching
for something beyond grasp.
