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Steve Schild: On the absurdity of writing a poem commemorating 911

Steve Schild: On the absurdity of writing a poem commemorating 911

From the COLLECTION: 20 years later, our readers share 9/11 memories series
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Say what you will,

words won’t work here.

The dead are dead,

the guilty guilty,

the heartbroken heartbroken

and forever so.

The rest is froth,

the flight of a moth

to a flame that

consumes it,

subsumes it

in a sea of

triviality.

Rebuild the towers

however you might.

Hold them up with shafts of light

that pierce the sky,

and know nothing

but nothing

will ever provide

a how

or a never again

or a why.

Steve Schild, Winona

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