Holy
New York’s skyline the holes
where twin towers
should be two reflecting
pools, waterfalls cascading
into the void
echo of absence
Thousands of names
a holy place
the dead their shock
imprinted
Tectonic shift that day
Of an age you know
where you stood
I transfixed
in Oregon
a blocky color TV
stupefaction thick
as the dust
The hole the hole
where a moment ago
that building
came down
Mind gone too