I sometimes see it coming from a distance,
But more recently it catches me off-guard.
In 2001 “Nine Eleven” distracted me from it.
Burning crumbling skyscrapers and red-hot terror alerts put it into perspective.
(Even so, that repeated smoky, fiery, dusty collapse of steel and glass–
twin towers falling upon themselves–
felt strangely familiar.)
I used to soak in it,
I wallowed and grew depressed by it.
Where are you?
Do you remember this day
Does it still fill you with Rage
Today I feel annoyed that you continue to appear in my poems and in my dreams.
I’ve tried to make peace with you,
Move on from you.
And I do,
except for those persistent tendrils reaching back
to Remembrance and Remorse.