. . . is a day of images indelibly burned forever in our memories, obliterating the divine gift of forgiveness. A day born in the commonplace became uncommon in the space of four heartbeats as four aircraft came to an untimely . . . stop. And, for awhile, everything else stopped, too. Even our breathing.
I think this date shall always be thus as long as I tread this Earth. And, perhaps even beyond those days.
The scab is healed, but the scar remains, never to fade.
God bless America.
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Amen. Never forget.
ReplyDeleteThe anger is back with me this year for some reason. I guess that'll never wholly go away.
ReplyDelete"The scar remains" is a good way to put it.
ReplyDeleteI hear ya, Moogie. Yesterday was bad for me as well.
ReplyDelete