9AM in New York

we wake up listening to alarms
ringing in ticker tape expired shade
while seeing the anguished stream of
momentous soot filled pyro-glyphic halls
blowing angelic flakes onto charred legacy

our eyes larger than apples
fluttering, tearing, screaming horror while
trampled stiff our opportunistic ways
realizing simple reflections of futility
meeting rooms once comprised
of great success now crypts life

this stairway led us near
the gates where bodies bound
shining the freedom for which we stand
the mighty heroes we all aspire being
fathers, mothers, children, cousins, friends, strangers
all died for our future so we the lucky live