911, One Year Later
Place: Trinity Church


It was a Fence
It's now a Wall
It's really Nothing at all

It was a Gate
Not filled with Hate
Just a Grate
That protected our Fate

I'm walking there now
Crowds are causing a row
I can hardly go..I can't see
To read the flags, to read
The shirts and the skirts and
The hurts and the pain and the
Faded photos in the rain..

There's too much noise..too many
Boys..too many children with their
Toys..

Tourists buying, tourists crying
Everybody vying for space to win 
The Race to get a Place to see
The Faces that have permanently lost
Their places among the aces..

This sacred space , a total waste
Such embarrassingly bad bad
Taste..
The hawkers..the gawkers...the
Incessant loud loud talkers..

The cell phones..the yell phones..
The melting, dripping ice cream
Cones..The mess, the fuss
The never ending line of the out of town
Tour Bus..

There is no time here, no space for
Any fond remembrance of the human race.
Just the lie..just the fast slick buy...
No time to sigh, no time to cry..
No time to just be..by..
To reflect..to feel, perhaps to
Kneel and pray...Perhaps to
Allow a wallow in the horror of a
Never forgotten day...

No space to find a personal place..
To just be and to see and maybe to
Decide to flee..

To a nearby coffeehouse for some java and
A pee....
And then to get on with the business of the 
City...
And to sit on a bench in Central Park...

Margo Moss, October 2, 2002