Suddenly <br /> <br />Life wasn’t trivial anymore <br />People began to mean what they say <br />In dark subways, on dirty street corners <br />Strangers clasped hands <br />Day and night, black or white <br />The middle match of gray <br />Made safe in the blaze of truth: <br />The dollar dropping through the market <br />Numbers just ash, confetti to the wind <br />The smile at last come current with the sigh <br />The hug of a stranger more tender than gold. <br /> <br />Parents found their children in the rubble <br />And children afraid, were reassured <br />Death, always mysterious <br />Took his time and place at the table <br />The napkin folded neatly in his lap <br />But we, with hands enjoined <br />In prayer, this breath <br />Give our need to one another <br />The taste of bread and water enough <br />To keep this dream <br /> <br />Alive. <br /> <br /> <br />(First electronically published in This Hard Wind, by EWGPresents, Oct 2002; The Other Voices International Project, Apr 2006)<br /><br />Laurence Overmire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-september-morning/
