The North Coast times-eagle., January 01, 2002, Page 16, Image 16

PAGE 16
NORTH COAST TIMES E A G L E , JAN&FEBRUARY 2002
DARREN ORANGE, ‘GROUND ZERO’ (2001)
snow on new york city (2001)
snow falls on the city,
soft pattering muting
traffic,
footsteps on slick sidewalk,
stark glaring headlights
of taxis,
endless curtain of white
one, yet many
stifling —
drifting slanted,
creamy sky,
white snow
imperceptibly,
one ends
and the other begins.
snow somehow
pulls away,
separates from sky
mingling with gray
of ruin’s ash.
it’s winter now, in new york,
across the united states
(in afghanistan as well)
and snow is falling on the city
the empire state building
frosted white
the Chrysler building
snowy
snow is cloaking
the people;
spattering black leather jackets,
umbrellas,
ice crystals gathering
on the backs of volunteers,
sifting through the rubble
of the towers
trying to find the remains
of yet another human soul,
it’s winter 2001-2002
and snow is falling on
new york
and amid the broken towers
crushed.
nearby storm drains
choked with ash
now overflow with snow...
no one
bothers to clean them.
a lone flag
stands atop the ruins
not hampered by the weather
red, white, and blue —
the only colors
apart from the gray of
the towers
waving proudly,
new york has been
dealt a blow too cruel
for words to express,
dumbfounded, we
watched our blaring t.v. screens,
witnessed the world trade towers
crumble.
many have donated money
to help victims’ families,
to aid in the excavation.
i have too small a sum,
i am too young to volunteer,
so all i have to offer
are these empty words,
trying to make sense
of a tragedy
that, in an instant,
brought a nation to its knees
and created a date
that would live forever on in infamy
9-11-01.
-MARGIT BOWLER
Margit Bowler visited New York City on Veterans Day weekend
in 2001. She is 12 years old and lives in the Astoria on the other side
of the continent from New York’s Astoria. She is an award winnng poet
and the author of The Christmas Eve Ball.
Darren Orange, a native of Yakima, Washington, lives in Astoria
also. “As a need to act after 9/11, I found myself violently throwing
industrial material at a canvas for no other reason than cathartic venting,”
he says. “When we re cut we bleed and we remember what’s important.
September 11 we bled.”