Ward Stories
(Column: Ward Stories)
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A year has gone by. We are still somber, still in mourning, still shaking
our heads in disbelief. Many of us have written poems on paper or in
our hearts, hoping such reflection will in some way make the pain dissipate.
Below are two poems to read as we remember the fallen, honor our heroes,
and try to make sense of it all.

CAMPANILE-MASSACRE
By Ilse Jecies

"Facilis Est Descensus Averni"

Once-proud towers-cynosure
for the urban navigator-
soaring over the World's great city

torched

by a flying, fire-breathing, dying
Trojan-horse;

tortured

to a mangled giant bowed-down
to the ground, weeping
ashes that waft over miles
the chilled acridity of the dying
fires of hyperspace-

a cosmic-cosmopolitan rainbow blown
to quaking, grey bits-
a realized dream pixilated
onto an even realer screen-

ordered hyperactivity
deranged-hives, bees and honey reverting
to dust at the wave of a wand-

expanding chaos; compressing time and space:

a rock became a sun
become a black hole
in one hour flat

THREE WEEKS LATER by Phillip Regman

Bonnie goes off to work one day
She kisses her kids off to school
Pretty much the same way
Not knowing this day would be her last

Little David cries
As every night mommy dies,
Mommy dies in his dreams

"Who's going to take care of us"? He asks;
His troubled mind had this new task
Thinking of the future
Fro him and his sister too
"Will Grandma come soon or will it be you?"

Three weeks later
In the time of early dawn
The sky is cloudy; the moon is not over
Though sunrise was gone
Pale white, misty thick paste colors you can taste
Are the colors that go by.
Peace, Hope and Strength-United
Are holding a close tie.

The sun seems to have disappeared
But I know it's clear to me
Simply by the light of day
The comfort in a tone that He is here
So the promise of tomorrow and things to come
Will be-will be

And so every night these three weeks
That have gone by
I ask the lord
To bless and protect all the little Davids
Who lie in their bed and cry
Of mommy-of Bonnie

My Bonnie By the rail
By the water
By the lighthouse in the dark
My Bonnie who lies somewhere underneath
The skyline in the City of New York.
As every night Bonnie dies
Out loud mommy dies completing his dream

Flagrant fumes of despair rise
Amidst the crowds worldwide-they mourn
The loss of those gathered round we frown
We frown; we frown to God to stay the course

To stay the course
Without panic yet
Anger and sorrow holding true our liberty's intact
Allowing forever better days to come
We stay the course
We stay the course
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