
By Lynne Thompson
The first time I heard the story
I seen trouble coming from a long way off
I was drinking scotch and water
I watched the Trade Center Towers
The victim lying on her side
I said “Brother the world’s on fire”
I thought I was dreaming
Saw flowers beside the railroad tracks
so still beside my bed,
the blood trail from the front door
a nightlight in the shape of a bear
water…a cold fire I could swallow—