I remember precisely what I was doing when I heard about it (walking into a classroom for a lesson, wondering what the class of juniors was still doing there, and why three teachers were crowded around a tv) and in fact I think I even saw the plane hit the second tower. I watched a lot of news coverage that evening, and many of the images stuck in my mind.
Needing an outlet, I wrote a poem. Then, over the following week, I wrote about 30 more. As my tribute to this anniversary, I'd like to share two of them with you.
The nightmare (13.09.01)
Who has a nightmare at nine in the morning?
Who has a nightmare when they are fully awake?
This is a nightmare that actually happened.
This is a nightmare that does not go away.
People jumping out of buildings,
Bodies falling on the ground.
Towers creaking, falling to the floor
Only these sounds, nothing more.
Nightmare people roam the street.
Deathly pale, unnaturally white.
This is a nightmare that starts with morning,
But does not finish with the night.
Searching though the ruins
Can anyone be found?
Searching through the ruins,
The dead mobiles sound.
People wander in the streets,
Wander on and on
Searching for their loved ones -
Their loved ones long gone.
The searches come to nothing
Cries of woe are heard.
The dead are gone and buried
The searched for never found.