Thursday, February 24, 2022

Again

I remember 9-11 felt like this:

an unearthly quiet in the air.

As if all Nature knew the great

blasphemy being committed,

knew also there was nothing

to do but delay repentance,

forgiveness, dreams and visions.

I waited then, as I do now, for news

beyond party lines, for the unspeakable 

to somehow be understood, for 

the word “Over” to be the prayer 

heard and answered.  There is an

unearthly quiet to this day as bombs

drops, guns fire, lives are taken away. 

I fear some second coming

no apocalypse has ever contained

to appear at the edge of my front porch – 

impossible to get away.


-Byron Hoot

hootnhowlpoetry.com 


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