by Philip Kolin
Your woes have ruptured
Two twin towers
Violated, falling
Infinite times each day.
Gray September ash
Coats your naked flag
The stars burned off,
Crashing and crying
Acid-raid tears
Tearing away at granite
Monuments of freedom.
On shattered gurney lie
Aborted lives in red, cold
White and bloodied blue
Gashed under debris —
Tombstones without crosses.
Your pain is timed
From sea to sea:
An anthem of shock
And a chorus of taps plays
For raped dreams
And shining hope evaporates
Smirched by smoke
Elegies rise tonight
On a flag pole
Left on the moon
In a brighter season.
All below echo
In agony: God bless
New York, New York.
