I see more than just names –

these names are the heroes forever sculptured in the marbled
heart of American pride; they are the memories
of fathers who have died
but their bravery will always rise
and live on through the horizon
of a child’s eyes.

They are the pronunciations of mothers who
gave birth to spirit and patriotism;
they are our tears.

They are the sons and daughters,
the friends & neighbors we have gained
through tragedy. But here they will always be.

They are the faces we will never forget
and the heartbeats we remember as they have
become lives who were lost

on that one day in September. They are the seeds
planted in today’s soil; statues of memories
foiled

in our hearts as reminders
of the day America cried.

© 2012
Tarringo T. Vaughan
September 11th

As September cries, I remember being a young man working
the morning hours of an eight hour job counting down
the hours to head home.  I took life for granted but on this day
as the news traveled of a plane flying into the World Trade Center
time became still.  I wasn’t one of many watching in terror

but I was there;

I was there watching through the eyes of a five year old son
seeing smoke empty from an office window where his father
worked realizing he may never see his face watch him grow/

I was there
listening through the ears of a mother as sirens blared/as shouts
screams and shock shook the sky with a loud silence realizing
that her son was one trapped on the many floors searching
frantically for that escape towards another day/

I was there
hoping through the heart of a wife breathing in debris
and praying that her husband make it back safe in his heroism
as a firefighter and his bravery as a man, but recognizing
in the collapse of building one that he may never come home/

and I was there
sharing in the spirit of humanity.  I was there horrified
but instilled with patriotism experiencing the strength of a country
and the many faces who became the stories of heroes on that that/
of the many names that became defined and forever remembered
as life’s poetry—more than words, but journeys
that will be felt forever in tomorrow’s generations.

Today as September cries let’s remember the many lives
who woke up to a bright and beautiful day; the many lives
who kissed children goodbye and wished loved ones a good day;
the many lives that are now sketched
in our hearts as the teardrops in the waterfall
of unity.

© 2011
Tarringo T. Vaughan