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The Awful Silence
Let us talk of hornworms
And butterflies
Of crisp asters and deer still fat
From this voluptuous season
Let us be silent
For at least this moment
Of the pile of steel girders
Of concrete dust
Of body parts
And human ash
Can we
Even here, miles from there
Watching the horses graze
The cows resting under the trees
Sheltered from the noontime sun
With the leaves turning golden
With the air still soft
Can we be silent
For even this moment
Of the pile of steel girders
Of concrete dust
Of body parts
And human ash
Troubling the air
Scratching our eyes
Tearing our hearts
Making anger and hate
Companions
To love and compassion
September 18,2001
poem
by
Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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