9-1-2

Romping around Pensacola the other day,
I saw a sticker on a truck window
and the rest, they say, is history ...

9-1-2

by Lyn Marinello

Nearly twenty years ago against a beautiful blue sky,

a smoldering plume erupted, as did a shocked & deafening cry.

Two towers were a target, the Pentagon was as well,

a third was in the process, though through heroics that was quelled.

Devastation everywhere. Thousands simply taken.

A nightmare of bleak mourning from which we could not awaken.

Anger unfamiliar to a people unprepared,

for an unspeakable atrocity in hopes that we'd be scared.

Strangely, to their surprise, it wasn't fear we felt,

but a super-glue type unity in this American pot in which we melt.

A patriotic blanket was laid out across this land.

Neighbors checked on neighbors. The fire of U.S. pride was fanned.

Good Samaritans were plentiful to ease the shock & pain & tears.

Open hearts & arms & church doors seemed to minimize the fears.

Terrorism on the eleventh did not shatter the country's core.

It stoked, instead, cohesion and something even more.

The Stars & Strips flew proudly from the porch of every abode.

The fabric of America will not simply tatter or erode.

And all of this transpired from the morn of the following day;

a renewed American spirit, a phoenix from rubble, decay.

We need to find our way back. We've gone quite completely askew.

We need to reach back to that morning and live like it's 9 - 1 - 2.