“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 |