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“Dad’s Birthday”

The day my father turned forty-six
The planes crashed and the towers fell.
Now, Dad is 47, but many wicks
Were added to today’s celebration.
The candles weren’t for years –
They represented tears; fears.

The day my father turned forty-seven
The flag(s) were at half mast, tears fell.
Memorials, tributes, remembrances and
Ceremonies were held to honor
Those who died one year ago.

The day my father turns forty-eight
Another year will have passed, but
Who knows what we’ll have done.
Captured those responsible, I hope.
No matter what, we’ll remember
NINE – ELEVEN TWO THOUSAND ONE.

Megan Delia Ratcliff

11 September 2002