My South Stars

In a city foreign to me

you were my guide

as I emerged from a mind boggling mass transit maze

two towering beacons of comfort

shooting solidly into the Gotham skyline

my shining South Stars

navigating me around these city streets.

Then one severely clear Tuesday morning in September

when not a blemish touched the sky

I stared dumbstruck down Seventh Avenue

where hours earlier you were bathed in a sea of blue

now plumes of ominous smoke surrounded and erased you

leaving behind cinder covered remains

and a lingering smell of death that crept north

suspended over the city for days.

Eight million silenced

unsettling in a city that never sleeps

streets left desolate

except for the faces of the missing masses

wallpapering hospitals,  churches,  police precincts,  and firehouses

a traumatic trail of tears

their images haunting

forever seared in my memory.

I wandered aimlessly

guided by the urgent call of sirens from fire trucks and ambulances

the only sound that filled the air

but my journey was cut short at Canal

yellow police tape and security posts erected there

rescue crews mounting mounds of rubble

your powerful façade disintegrated

except for a single steel beam rising out of the ashes.

Days and weeks passed

now, ten years have gone by

that bearded man was shot down in the Pakistan sand

and I am drawn to a new light in the sky

where I can stand in your footprints reflecting on you and say

you gave me courage to stay.

~kfu