September 11, 2001
Do the trees know what has happened?
Is that why that one's crown
is rimmed with fire, that one's arm
droops a flagging yellow?
Sumac, thick as people
on a crowded street,
redden suddenly at the tips.
Ferns in dark hollows of the forest
reveal their veins.
Bouquets of asters, purple and white,
offer themselves from the side of the road
to all the wounded passing by.
Curator's note: This poem is offered in remembrance on the anniversary of 9/11/2001.
Art credit: "Autumn Asters," photograph taken on October 4, 2013, by Jacky Parker.
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