12 days of heather, day 11

i wrote this series remembering my best friend who was making pastries at windows on the world when she was senselessly killed by strangers with hate in their hearts. it’s been 18 years since i’ve seen her face, put my arms around her, eaten a meal she’s made. i wrote this to feel connected to her. i share it so that you might too.

day eleven
at an art opening after heather died, i came across this painting that my dear friend kate samworth had done. the scene enchanted me: the serene communing of humans, animals, and nature. it was gentle and whimsical. it depicted a world i would love to inhabit. then i looked at its title: september 10th.

it hit me like a gut punch: on september 11th, my life--all of ours--had been split in two. there was the enchanted innocence of before and there was the devastating knowledge of after. i wrote this poem with this dichotomy in mind. (forgive me. i am not a poet.) :

Before…round women bathed in green ponds with elephants Babies dozed while their mamas laughed and sang Sweet meats set mad mouths smiling Downtown people fearlessly filled their lungs and their pockets Three was the magic number

After…girders buckled while burning bodies flew and fell Mothers nursed their babies on salt tears and eulogies Food turned to sand in widows’ mouths Everyone breathed the weight of hate Two was not enough