A Poem About a Good Wall


From Bristol and from Brittany,
From Thailand and Japan
Azerbaijan and Albany, Canada and Sudan
From ninety lands the families come
To a place that’s not the same
They’re coming to New York City
To find their loved one’s name

Some only have to walk,
or maybe ride a train
Others touch their crosses before they’ll board the plane
Some visit Ground Zero alone, some travel with a friend
They come to New York City
So they can touch the name

The names will always be there, although the vistors will change
For many the name that’s listed there is the sum of their remains

Heads bowed before the wall, a grieving family stands
Aware of passers’ wary glances.
For they come from a Muslim land
Mother reaches out her hand, touches Father’s name
He died responding, per his calling,
Some will never understand

Sad lady finds her husband
Chiseled into stone
Traces ‘Benjamin’ with her finger
And asks him to come home

Dad tries hard to find the words
when his daughter asks him why
On the day that death rained from the sky
Mommy forgot to say goodbye 

Everyone looks so different, but their stories end the same
All they have are memories now, on a wall of many names

3 responses to this post.

  1. an excellent creation, as only you can produce. Love every tough line.
    Aside: of course folks are wondering how you are weathering the storms. Any reports?


    • Our daughter, who lives in Tampa, just had her power restored yesterday.
      It was just another weekend in Panama City, although Irna brought ys two days of cool, dry air that hinted at a balmy fall to come.


  2. We did all right, a little wind, some rain, no damage.
    Sorry I havent been on more, i will do better.


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