Everyone knows where they were that morning.

Everybody knows where they were that morning.

9:00am

September 11, 2001

It was Tuesday morning

In the inner city school the children's faces

We're glowing in

black brown white

and all colors in between.

We were discussing poetry

and the meaning of things

that make us feel some emotion.

A fire engine bell.

A police siren.

A church bell on a Sunday morning.

The little girl her bright black face

Embellished with the biggest whitest smile.

Said she always cried at sad music playing.

I think she had poetry in her soul

More than anyone in the room.

Then a plane hit the towers

And a second plane.

We heard it but did not know what it was.

But it made us feel dark

something bad had happened.

Then from the window

the ash filled the sky.

It poured in an endless deluge

Blocking the sun

They looked at me.

I am their teacher

their eyes are what I remember.

Wide open full of fear and questions.

The school warning system

said we were in lockdown.

Lockdown, an unknown thing

when I was in sixth grade.

a boy started crying it's a bomb he cried.

The others started to join him.

their white enlarged eyes

looked at mine for comfort.

And the answers I did not have.

The darkness was folding in the city.

No blue sky.

no trees across the playground.

Just grey dark ash thick as a fog.

What do you feel I asked

Tell me what you feel.

Anger miss

Fear miss

Terror miss

Sad miss

Lost miss

Afraid miss

It went on

We played find someone and hug

To half your fears.

My own fears as large as theirs.

One child asked if we could pray.

Prayers were banned at school now.

But I said does anyone know a prayer.

My little black poetess

Started slowly unsure .

But the others joined in

Even me.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I die before I wake,
I pray for Lord my soul to take. Amen

We stayed in lockdown

until the afternoon.

And shared lunch pails

Worried parents came

to pick up their children.

In the thick ash laden air

They walked out

one by one seeking their

Loved ones in the throng.

A line of tiny ghost.

Four children were left without parents.

They looked into my eyes.

And saw the only answer I had

As the tears flowed down my face.