Читать книгу When September Comes - Peter Jailall - Страница 10

When September Comes

It was an ordinary September morning

just before the Autumn leaves

began to fall.

I sat horrified, speechless

in the privacy of my living room

watching the twin towers

fall.

I watched half-naked, innocent people

parachuting in panic, plunging

to escape death

only to splatter and sprawl

like shot eagles.

I watched brave, dedicated people

selflessly swarm into danger,

defying death

then taken down one by one

falling

in the line of duty.

This circumcision

at our gate,

this bleeding initiation into terror

completed a crucifixion;

painful double spear thrusts

in our side.

After witnessing

wicked deeds of wicked men,

I walked,

escaped my living room

for the green open park.

I watched chipmunks and squirrels

jump and fall so playfully

up and about the maple trees.

Clouds of white seagulls

sailing, silently circling

in our open, dangerous sky.

My faith restored,

I left the park

inhabited by God’s harmless creatures,

returned to the privacy

of my living room

to reflect and compose myself.

And when September comes again

just before the Autumn leaves

begin to fall,

I will remember.