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.