(Here’s a timely one by Alice Rydel)

Sick of the anniversary

But can’t stop watching TV

Where were you? Where was I?

Hugging Wanda.

Nine Eleven

Nurses called back to work

The hospital needs to prepare

I hear her screaming on the phone

And rush out to get her

“My daughter! My daughter!”

When I tell the story

My arms contort

Around her invisible body

Her head is on my shoulder 

We go back to the hospital

In the ER a stretcher holds a solid white statue

Then a dark hole opens

Gasping for air

Chairs ripped out of the auditorium

To make room for beds

Never filled

Waiting for news

About Wanda’s daughter

I hear cheering and laughter

But my colleague looks sick

“Her daughter left a voicemail.

Everyone cheered.

I couldn’t tell her the rest of the message.”

Still hugging Wanda