Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Dust (revisited 9 years later)

The Dust

The field of honor that was once

A testament of steel

Has now been cleared of all debris

Except that which we feel.

In the ruins of sorrow

Families cry for those that won’t return.

Children wail and lovers weep

For those of whom they yearn.

The uniforms of blue and white --

Reminders to us all --

Are fused with red, which is the blood

Of those who heard the call.

And brave men out on foreign soil

Now wage the battle proud.

They rattle sabers gleaming bright

Their caissons ring out loud.

The sinister force from far off lands

Sent assassins from the skies

They thought that killing innocents

Would reinforce their lies.

But what beheld them following

This cowardly attack

Was a steely-eyed America

That was ready to fight back.

The dust that fell from towers tall

Still lingers to this day.

It flows throughout our beating hearts --

It shows up when we pray.

And while we fight these craven foes,

We know we’ve just begun

To honor those that passed away

The date of Nine-One-One.

©2002 Alan Smason

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