The Poem That Came Two Weeks Late

Some things can't be written in the moment. This is one of them.

I wrote The Day the Skies Fell Silent about two weeks after September 11th, not in those first days when the same footage was looping on every channel, twenty-four/seven. Grief that raw doesn't leave much room for language, much less creative language. It took that long before any words organized enough to call a poem actually showed up.