Dust settled in my lungs.
I tried hard not to breathe
but there was no escape.
What remains after all
these years is the smell:
pulverized cement, burnt metal.
And death. That smell was death.
That dust was death. It became
a part of me through my lungs.
I was just steps away weeks after
watching the silent slaughter from
my office window. Unimagined violence.
Thousands disintegrating before my
eyes. But an eerie silence protected my
enclave miles to the north.
Red smoke and flames cremated
the lucky ones, those with no
chance to jump.
Buildings collapsed – inward.
Smoke billowed – upward.
Fiery metal shot out – everywhere.
The entire damnation unfolded in
silence. Surreal silence. Surreal death.
Bloodless death. Undiscoverable death.
A city, a world, stood together for
one moment. Until we sighed, and
laughed, and rebuilt, and forgot.
And pretended otherwise.
Copyright (TZampino) 2020
Image Credit: Pixabay