September 11, 2012: A poem

September 11, 2012

Today we did not win the lottery
and your plane arrived on time.
There’s a slip of purple in the eastern sky,
cinnamon to the west. Our rosemary needs clipping.
There’s a clack then a hum along the sidewalk—the boys
from down the street head home on their skateboards.
Each day has its ahs, and this is the best of them.

Paradise is relative.

─Kay B. Day; from the collection Notes from Florida

 _________________

Photo/The US Report

Comments

[Terence]

As I sit here today and reflect on the sadness of that day 11 years ago your poem has reminded me of those things in life that bring joy to so many of us. Thank you for sharing your talent with us.

[Kay B. Day/Ed.]

Terence, I really appreciate those kind words. I rarely run poetry here (I get a lot of great submissions, but it's the search engine thingie), but I wrote this and figured it pretty much said what I would've said in a column. best, Kay