september eleven

View outside my window

rousing to a sonic boom
i confuse it with the daily rumble
of the traffic on canal
emerging from the holland tunnel

myself, wrapped in bedcovers warm
rolled, regarding window view
twin towers in their testament
of global commerce gone askew

8:45, eyes still blurred
drugged down from dark and dreamful sleep
could not process what i saw
a burning gash five miles deep

i measured it with my mind
mangled steel and depth of flame
smoke blackening bluish sky
the plane had hit with deadly aim

steadily, it conquered me
that my eyes were seeing true
before i could digest it in
came the crash, plane number two

witnessing, i saw the scene
plane flew in, direct impact
bedroom window was the frame
drama of destructive act

View up Church Street which corners my building

all alone i had no choice
terror tried to possess
so i shoved it deep inside
found a mask for my distress

i felt the tension lodge in me
grappling with what to do
bore down upon my shoulders
bruising in the black and blue

the towers were my nightlight
companion to my daily rest
an anchor to the city
a constant in my lonely quest

death summoned me to this place
my father died, left the task
to comprehend a lifetime
and free the demons of the past

now, death comes for many more
their screams too far away to hear
but close enough to breathe the ash
like baby powder in the air

soon came one, then the other
each tower shook and shivered
concrete compressing all inside
panic spread, a flooding river


stunned by the unfolding
crisis that was far too near
some distance from the trauma
i needed to get out of here

my brother calls in tearful voice
end to end we were not close
we made a plan to connect
i’d walk north, he’d walk south

up broadway i trod along
my legs already aching
uncertain of what transpired
and what i’d undertaken

i passed impromptu gatherings
standing by a radio
eager for some scrap of news
full of fear, the unknown

some were wearing gas masks
fleeing from the concrete crush
proof of their survival
bandages and fine white dust

fearing i could not progress
but barely walked far at all
i pause to restore my strength
then i hear my brother’s call

All public transportation was closed

united now we had the will
to make it through this dreadful day
even though we were unclear
of how we’d travel all the way

six mile trek remained ahead
city now could not assist
public transport all shut down
only choice was to persist

we walked the sum of forty blocks
police had speakers blaring
“it is not safe, please go north”
some listened, some uncaring

Police barricades everywhere

yellow-orange caught my eye
the glow of flames ascending
panic gripped but fear was false
just sausage cooking unattended

feeling foolish i turned away
yet still there was the tension
phantom perils taunted me
a global apprehension

i saw it in their faces
and felt it in the dusty air
new yorkers had been broken
yet, were not beyond repair

Signs posted to evacuate north

when we finally took a rest
we stopped to call our mother
to let her know we were safe
and we’d found each other

“ask upon your guardian
angels” she told each of us
they will guide you safely home
know in them, place your trust

out of options to explore,
decided to give luck a try
hitch a ride to home uptown
right away someone came by

The next day flags were everywhere

we thanked our angels deeply
praised the mom we found so wise
because just like she told us
ask, solutions will arise

delivered near my brother’s
home a few blocks away
soon we were sheltered safe
finally could release the day

inside, t.v. insisted
to replay the cradle fall
drilling in the danger
of a time beyond recall

i’ve never felt fear before
breathe moist upon my neck
paralyze me with the world
not know what to expect

i’m grateful that i still exist
i mourn for those who perished
i’ll testify each day i live
is one i’ll always cherish.

© Eliza Alys Young

The aftermath weeks later looking eerily beautiful

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Eliza Alys Young, aka CreativEliza, is a free spirit, world traveler, creative expert, and part of multicultural family… Eliza shares her time between the US, Dominican Republic and beyond. When she is not caring for her high-energy kids, writing her poetry or for her blog, creating art or cooking up a storm, she is designing for her own company, Design Intense.

2 Comments on “september eleven”

  1. Pingback: Down the Road and Back Again | Amor y Sabor (Love + Flavor)

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