(transcribed from the Writers’ Almanac for 11 September 2006. Layout mine. For the subject of this poem, see the wikipedia article)
I see you again and again
tumbling out of the sky
in your slate gray suit
and pressed white
shirt
At first I thought you were
debris from the explosion
maybe gray plaster wall or
fuselage
But then I realized people were
leaping
I know who you are
I know there’s more to you
than just this image on the news
this ragdoll
plummetting
I know you were someone’s lover
husband
daddy
Last night you read stories to your children
tucked them in
then curled into sleep next to your
wife
Perhaps there was small sleep talk of the
future
Then before your morning coffee had
cooled
You had come to this
A choice between fire or
falling
How feeble these words!
Bellowing in this
aftermath
How ineffectual this utterance of sorrow!
We can see plainly it’s
hopeless
Even as the words trail from our mouths
But we can’t help
ourselves
How I wish we could trade them
for something that could really have
caught you
— Annie Farnsworth
