Nine. Eleven. Nine.

If it is
to sigh
and hold
the same time
I do.

I wasn’t there
eight years ago
but the air
is heavy
as families
read names
but the names
more lightly than
our mortal souls.

It was sunny,
clear, catastrophic
sudden, solemn
I choke back sobs
tears fall
and it feels
like rain.


In related news, Sarah Bunting is still trying to find her guardian angel from that day:
The original story on her blog
The radio spot on today’s The Takeaway

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