‘Poetry’ Archives
Remembering Generation 9/11:
“Children of the Ash and Light”
By Brad Trom Born into shadows cast before their firstbreath,They grew in the footprint of sudden loss anddeath.Children of a morning when the sky felldown,Carrying a quiet weight through every town.No memories of the sirens or the dust in theair,Only a framed portrait, a father not there,A mother’s steady voice when the story wastold,An aching gap left where a hand was meantto hold. Yet they are more than the tragedy thatmarked their start,They are voices of resilience, each a beatingheart.Woven through the fabric of a worldtransformed,Navigating the era where the modern stormwas formed.A global aftermath written in their blood andbone,Finding common strength in never standingalone.From the ashes of September came a risinglight:A generation stepping forward into the opennight.
GROWING UP
by Shelia Bland Growing up isGoing from Blank slateTo Everybody knows but you To Nobody knows but you To Nobody knows including you ToBlank slate
POETRY: Kiziah’s Story, Part II
Read Part I here. By SHELIA BLAND To the other,The mother says only,“Yes, sir.” The mother and Kiziah go to the allotted area,Where the mother goes over the list of dutiesand the order in which they must occur—without passing on to Kiziah,the mother’s anxiety. The mother inspects Kiziah’s dressTo see that everything is perfectBefore she leaves thishouse of the othersto head home. The next day,the mother sets out for work. --What do you mean “the next day…”?What happened at the event?How did Kiziah do?What is to be the fateOf the mother and daughter? I cannot say.I was not there, you see.No one was.We are not guilty.The mother was not there.She is not guilty.She is responsible—We all are. You see, the mother assumedThe event ran lateAnd Kiziah was requiredTo stay the night. It’s a valid assumption.We have no control over the others.We are merely required to obey them.Kiziah would have had to do as she was told. That would be following [...]
