Giants of Ground Zero 9/11
Posted: Wed Sep 14, 2011 4:15 pm
Watched the Channel 9 Doco NOW 9/11 and was so sad for the children who were born after that horrible day - having lost a Father in the collapse of the towers and the mother carrying the unborn child at the time. Children who had never even got the opportunity to know their Dads holding their little flags at the Ground Zero site ceremony alongside of course all the other grief stricken relatives and friends.
It inspired this...............
GIANTS OF GROUND ZERO 9/11
He stood holding a photograph set in a silver frame
he’d never met the man in it but he had the same name.
The photograph was black and white, the bloke stood next to Mummy
who wore a loose and flowing dress to hide her ‘baby’ tummy.
He stared through glass at empty space – he would be ten today,
his Mum this morning had been sad and went to church to pray
for the soul of the departed – this bloke she called his Dad
who died when two planes bought down towers, as part of a Jihad.
He heard the slamming of the door as it closed behind his Mum
outside upon on the stone wall pots of red geraniums
matched the trees in autumn colours burgundy, red, grape and gold
who basked in the sunny morning after long dark evenings cold.
Today he knew was special – they were going to catch a train
to the city, where the twin towers fell – a place of death and pain,
but he understood the reason – his Dad was no forgotten hero
but a father unrecovered – one who rested in Ground Zero.
This little bloke was only ten, he wondered if he’d see
a Ghost Train full of those souls lost? Would he know his Daddy?
There’d be so many people there from all across the land -
and the President. He wondered if perhaps he’d shake his hand.
And he’d hidden in his pocket a handful of beach sand
to scatter on Ground Zero – his Dad would understand.
For his Dad they said was standing amongst giants brave and tall
he was a fire-fighter – one of many lost - when two twin towers did fall.
Maureen Clifford © 09/11
It inspired this...............
GIANTS OF GROUND ZERO 9/11
He stood holding a photograph set in a silver frame
he’d never met the man in it but he had the same name.
The photograph was black and white, the bloke stood next to Mummy
who wore a loose and flowing dress to hide her ‘baby’ tummy.
He stared through glass at empty space – he would be ten today,
his Mum this morning had been sad and went to church to pray
for the soul of the departed – this bloke she called his Dad
who died when two planes bought down towers, as part of a Jihad.
He heard the slamming of the door as it closed behind his Mum
outside upon on the stone wall pots of red geraniums
matched the trees in autumn colours burgundy, red, grape and gold
who basked in the sunny morning after long dark evenings cold.
Today he knew was special – they were going to catch a train
to the city, where the twin towers fell – a place of death and pain,
but he understood the reason – his Dad was no forgotten hero
but a father unrecovered – one who rested in Ground Zero.
This little bloke was only ten, he wondered if he’d see
a Ghost Train full of those souls lost? Would he know his Daddy?
There’d be so many people there from all across the land -
and the President. He wondered if perhaps he’d shake his hand.
And he’d hidden in his pocket a handful of beach sand
to scatter on Ground Zero – his Dad would understand.
For his Dad they said was standing amongst giants brave and tall
he was a fire-fighter – one of many lost - when two twin towers did fall.
Maureen Clifford © 09/11
