“My anger does not yield easily.
I live in ground zero, sightseeing,
mourning, praying through
a vague memory of
once upon a time dialogue of civilizations
floating like ghosts of firemen past
staircases set in blaze.
The spirit stirred on that brilliant
sunny September has crept
into bones, permeating veins,
insinuating air corridors, echoing
along Hudson shores with
magnanimous lament.”