Sometimes in my nightmares
I relive that horrific day
when I picked up the phone
and heard you utter
“Honey, terrorists have taken over our airplane
I want you to know that I love you
more than anything in this world! ”
But most often in my nightmares
I see you sobbing over my grave
on a dark autumn day
Where the howl of the wind
mimics your agonizing cries.
And the rain falls heavily
from the sky.
My grave is littered with
bottles of whiskey.
And my tombstone reads
Henry Smith born July 14 1960
Died September 11 2001.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem, along with the poems concerning Columbine and the Montreal Massacre, shows that these major events have had a great influence on you. It is interesting to note the whiskey bottles littering your grave in the Sept.11th poem. I assume they indicate that you would be sorely missed by your loved one. If, when you die, you are sorely missed then you are a very lucky man - lucky to have had a relationship where someone cares so deeply about you. I, too, believe that I would fall short of courage if I faced the Montreal Massacre situation.