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GRIEF AND HOPE
(september 11, 2001)
The TV burned like a bonfire in her living room. She sat on the couch
like a marshmallow toasting on a stick. A sickly, bubbling mass of sugary
goo. She only wished the fire flared hotter. She only begged to burn.
She’d kissed her father goodnight while he was sitting in that
very spot. No one told her that goodnight had meant goodbye.
The computer screen lit the bedroom a hypnotic white. He sat at the
keyboard looking at what was once his empire, looking at a ghost of
his dream, his company. All his life he’d strived to be what he
had been until today. Now there was no company, there was no dream.
No one told him that dreams could be murdered just like men.
The children,
The doctors,
No one told them that this bright new day just might be their last.
The mothers,
The businessmen,
No one told them that /liberty and justice for all” just might
not mean for them.
To pray, to crawl, to beg, or to lift, we are all brought to our knees,
all brought to this same melancholy level of life. The world, our neighbors,
even our enemies kneel to lend a hand or say a prayer. No one told us
that evil could unite the world.
To give blood, give money, give counsel, or give hope, we can all rise
to our best, all fly the flag, all bear the weight. For today our flag
is the flag of the world, our anthem is that of hope itself. No one
told them that they did not die in vain.
The students,
The people,
No one told us that this whole world was ours, not a piece for you and
a piece for me.
The grandmothers,
The infants,
No one told them that they could change the world.
- Dan Schubmehl
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