Posted by: Paula Delgado-Kling | September 11, 2014

#neverforget #Sept. 11

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We did not live far, maybe a brisk fifteen-minute walk away. We heard the first plane low, right over us. We witnessed the second crash from the rooftop.

The sky was angel blue.

Then, the buildings collapsed — a deep, forceful, thunder-like sound, and it cut through me. I close my eyes now and I still sense it: the dust, the wind carrying some of the broken glass to us.

The smoke lasted weeks.

For months after, at night, we slept listening to power-saws and hammering.

Close to dawn, as the city quieted for a few hours, whispers and murmurs manifested around me.

Strangely, or not so strangely, I saw doves on our rooftop, really, doves. As if they kept vigil over the sight.

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Stay strong, New York.

 

 


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