WTC from Church St.

On September 11th, 2001, I was on my way to my job in Queens when I stopped at a gas station in Hoboken just outside the Lincoln Tunnel. It was about a quarter to nine in the morning.

I was seven months pregnant, and I mean REALLY pregnant. I stepped out of the driver's seat to stretch my back and legs as my tank was filling, and I saw the World Trade Center across the river. Heavy smoke billowed up from the top of the building.

Immediately, I turned on the local radio. Nothing. The normal morning radio shows were on, gossiping about celebrities, playing music, being silly. I tuned to the local news radio on the AM dial, still nothing. I remember breathing a sigh of relief and chuckling to myself, thinking "They must be filming a movie. Hollywood is getting sophisticated."

Sun statue in my garden. A symbol of freaking summertime

This summer, my writing has slowed down considerably. I think I am going to have to work with the school schedule and take summers "off". I write in silence, and this summer I have had anything but.

So, I will write a little rant/slam poetry to commemorate the season. I call it:

Anything But Writing

Soccer drills in the yard.
Softball tosses on the street.
Daytime and evening practice and games.
Grandparent celebrations.
Enough poolside fun to justify the exorbitant fee?
Check.