Today the sun grew dark again, though skies
were blue; the ash-gray plumes of memories
eclipsing every golden ray. Goodbyes
reechoed off my TV screen— the pleas
for help, the final “I love you’s”, the screams—
eternity in high-def stereo.
These recollections may, to others, seem
an ill-advised endeavor, yet we know
to not recall results in letting down
our guard against some future rain
of terror soaking in our hallowed ground
and germinating thistled-weeds of pain.
Today’s the paper anniversary
of what we pray will be the last we see.