top of page

9/11/19

This morning I woke for a brief moment as the sun rose and snapped a picture, half asleep, as I often do. 

On the train, trying to articulate an uncanny quiet during the normally chaotic commuter hour, I wrote this: 

I forget how much trauma the city holds in its bones on this day The ache is palpable Like joints battered long ago Flaring in the earliest motions of dawn Before you are fully conscious Before you remember Why  



bottom of page