Of All the Dates
Of all the dates in history,
Today’s, to me, the worst.
Whenever it rolls ‘round, through time
I’m instantly transversed.
The bright blue sky, the tiny planes,
The crash with smoky thrust;
The bodies falling, buildings down
And everywhere, the dust.
The panicked people running
To escape the wild debris;
The stunned and silent city
Showing non-stop on TV.
Each generation flashes back,
With memory’s precision,
To one or two horrific dates
We perfectly envision.
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