There’s another choir in Heaven.

Have the screams turned into songs yet?

People put their shoes on that day

and went to work. And died.

Coffee cup’s still in the sink.

Half a piece of toast grows moldy.

Somewhere, Fido howls for bones,

and a pat on the head.

Master’s dead.

There’s dry cleaning

they’ll never pick up.

Birthday cakes, no more.

Never again, a “Honey, I’m home!”

or the sound of their keys in the door.

Or the scuff of their slippers

crossing the floor, to say goodnight,

just once more.

They only did what’s right,

went to work.

And died.

They died at their desks

and died in the skies.

Some of them died while trying

to save lives.

They met their God amid

rubble and flames,

or some other way,

yesterday, 9-11-01.

This too we will never forget.

Editor’s Note: This poem was written without revisions on the morning after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. History notes that 2,977 people from 93 countries were killed with 2,606 fatalities in the World Trade Center’s two Towers and their perimeters when American Airlines Boeing Flight 767, laden with 20,000 gallons of jet fuel, hit near the 80th floor of the 110-story North Tower. It was followed by the South Tower impact of United Airlines Flight 175, some 18 minutes later. Included in the toll are 343 New York City firefighters and 23 NYPD officers. More than 6,000 were injured there. Additionally, deaths of 265 persons, including 19 hijackers, took place aboard four airplanes. United Airlines Flight 93 was crashed by design by heroic passengers in rural Pennsylvania. Deaths by the crash of American Airlines Flight 77 at the Pentagon were 125. More facts to share, especially with those of a younger generation who may be less aware of this chapter of American history, are easily accessible. See: history.navy.mil. Visit: govinfo.library.unt.edu/911/hearings/index.htm. View: 911memorial.org.