We Were Small

we were small

so small

that day

in the first grade

classroom

innocence prevailed

and the world was

peaceful just

the night before

how could anything

bad happen? this

is the USA…I

would think,

but I’d never

had reason to

and why should I?

we were small

we sat in tiny

chairs in a little

room with other children

we were safe

and so were airplanes

that soared through an

open sky,

a symbol for

our freedom

skyscrapers were

incredible, taller

than even my dad

and the government,

       our capital

couldn’t be beat, rough

brick and smooth

marble were

so strong

but then things

changed, not slowly—

all at once,

like the rapid-fire

questions overwhelming

my naïve little mind and

spilling into the

quiet room

I’ve come to realize

they’ll never stop

it was early in

the day and

some students went

home

we were all confused

and confusion comes

right before

terror, but I didn’t

know that word then

we only knew that

someone had hurt

America, the country

of the free

my home

I’d never seen a

teacher look scared

but soon enough

we were leaving

I came home

only to see pictures

                  videos

            new words

expelled at me faster

than questions could

come to mind

because memories are

made before questions

can be asked

we were all

in a quiet daze

a reverie

in wonder that a current

even could seem so

surreal

plane one

fire, crash

        free

            falling

                        falling

                        down

people and debris

and then plane two

the same confusion

            terror

and plane three

where my neighbor works

plane four near

my grandparents

we were small

our minds couldn’t

see anything but

details, like

the way the ash

flew up or that

poor soul who

was captured by camera

leaping from the skyscraper

now I’m tall, but

not as tall as a

skyscraper, and

those are actually

terrifying

the world is different, not

just my country, not

just me

every year this

day passes by, but

before it was only

a memory

except planes frighten

me and I feel small again

because planes don’t mean

freedom, they mean beware

of hijackers,

which was also a new word

planes are weapons, too

and can break brick

and marble

this year I

understand

but I didn’t before

because I only saw

the details, which are

small, but horrible

in their blinding significance

the details paint a

picture which

will hang in our

hearts forever

and the painting is

better, because I remember

it all

always, we

never forget

I understand that

there is no way

to remove what’s been

done, or to restore lives lost

but hate is a long

road to nowhere

although it’s easier

and it’s my first reaction

it keeps us small

America came

together in love and

despair, not hate

E Pluribus Unum

because some bonds

can’t be broken by

adversity or hate

and I see now

how things are

and they’re different

we were small

but now we’re big—

stronger in defense, more appreciative

of life, we have

bigger hearts and memories

to last us forever