children of 9/11

 

Six

When saw it on the TV 

My mom crying 

All I saw were airplanes and smoke and firefighters 

The president saying something I didn’t understand 

Numbers meant nothing to me yet 

I thought to myself 

“There’s always bad news on TV, right?

What makes this any different?” 

I went off to play 

But it did make things different

Seven 

When I wondered why grown-ups said 

“Never Forget” 

Like they thought somehow

We might 

We who grew up 

Formed by terror and patriotism 

Whose earliest memories 

Were the worst tragedy 

In a nation’s history 

And we didn’t even know it 

Ten

When I read the stories 

Of that September’s heroes 

And finally understood 

My heart quivering 

And choosing 

I’d have done it too 

We never knew a plane ride

Without a calculated risk 

A plan for the unthinkable 

It was thinkable for us 

Thirteen 

When the Pentagon memorial

Turned my memory into history 

Sixteen 

When I learned 

Not all Muslims are enemies 

Twenty

When I started college 

And none of my classmates remembered it 

Twenty-two 

When I first cried 

At the footage 

Numbers meant something to me now 

We will never forget 

Not out of honor 

Or caution 

Or vengeance

But simply because 9/11 is

Engraved in our psyche 

Cemented into our foundations 

Like Christmas or Toy Story or kindergarten 

Twenty-six 

Now 

The youngest of those who remember 

The oldest of those who know nothing different 

Our bodies know the rhythm of

Shock

Flowers

Speeches 

Monuments 

These twenty years 

Have made us 

Who we are