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Survivor Guilt

I’d worked the previous night, the tenth,
programing applications.
When the alarm went off at four A.M.
I hit snooze- no hesitation.
Eventually my feet found floor,
I stumbled to the shower.
A routine usually done in ten
took me a half an hour.
I was running up the platform steps
but my train just left the station.
Great, I will be late for sure,
I thought, in consternation.
At least the day was perfect,
Warm and clear, no threat of rain.
I fished and found my monthly
and took the next westbound train.
The ”E” was fairly crowded
When I boarded it at Penn
I’d missed the first and I was glad
Another quickly came.
Beneath the streets of Gotham
The subway lurched downtown.
Above all hell was breaking loose
as two large planes were down.
I climbed the stairs up to the street
And entered the inferno
The sky now black from billowing smoke
Bright day turning nocturnal.

A Seven thirty Seven’s wheel-
I heard a woman screaming
I saw a body at my feet
Were we at war or was I dreaming?
I stared up at the place I’d left-
where I worked the night before.
Where flames and smoke leapt to the sky-
where my co workers were no more.
They’re jumping, someone shouted
I saw black specks launch from on high.
Better to die on the street
Than to suffocate or fry.

I turn and ran, I am ashamed.
No Hero’s tale to tell.
I was a safe way away
when the first tower fell.

Had I not hit the button
or dawdled in the shower.
Had I caught my usual train
I’d be dead in the tower.

This is my shame and burden
To live when others died.
Preserved by fate and circumstance
From terror from the sky.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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