To Watch the Towers Fall and the Pentagon Burn, Say Goodbye to the Summer of ‘77
You killed the only friend I had in the world. My love. My life.
Again and again. Like it was nothing. Just another day in the life. “World Machine” by Level 42, my favorite album.
I watched you do it, excruciating, slow, merciless. I heard her screams, everyone did. They paused for a few seconds, through the worst, then — like most chords in this familiar ballad — walked away during the bridge.
He never got to watch Faith grow, walk his daughter down the aisle, say a few words over beer and barbecue, the cookouts we loved so well that last summer.
I say his words sometimes, when I’m alone with my thoughts in these woods. Borrowed, as it were. I can almost feel
the same summer sun on my skin, the twilight he kissed me, a footnote, but real just the same, just as real as the morning the towers fell and the Pentagon burned.
His father ran into the burning ashes, breaking through the police tape, past the armed guards, lifting and cursing, crying and breaking, searching for a sign, for hope.
I trace your name and the date with my cold, small fingers, over and over again, until the dam breaks, my tears a welcome, shivery surprise.
I never got to say goodbye before they took you away from me. I didn’t need a happily ever after.
Just you okay, blinking back at me in the summer sun.
Originally published at https://carolbankswebercoggie.wordpress.com on August 14, 2020.