OCTOBER 15, 2001
Someone was listening to
the sounds of crying
and screaming, the
desperate praying of
women and men inching
down flights thru chunks
of debris and water,
sound of crackling walls,
floors buckling, tearing
apart. He heard everything,
says nothing. He escaped
with his yellow retriever.
The sounds were very
strong, violent. "it's hard
to describe sounds with
words." He heard the
rustling of papers, crunched
glass and the thud of his
computer sliding from
his desk. "My dog was
nervous but he didn't run
away," he said, "I went
thru a world of smoke
and smell of jet fuel.
My dog wouldn't leave
my side. We got to the
floor an hour and 15
minutes later. My dog was
exhausted but he kept
walking." Then he heard
crackling sounds, people
running. Then the collapse.
Then he sang a Columbian
song about the noise of
passengers scurrying to
catch trains and a walker who
found himself without a
path on the road, how
he had to make his own path
(By Lyn Lifshin @ 2001)
Someone was listening to
the sounds of crying
and screaming, the
desperate praying of
women and men inching
down flights thru chunks
of debris and water,
sound of crackling walls,
floors buckling, tearing
apart. He heard everything,
says nothing. He escaped
with his yellow retriever.
The sounds were very
strong, violent. "it's hard
to describe sounds with
words." He heard the
rustling of papers, crunched
glass and the thud of his
computer sliding from
his desk. "My dog was
nervous but he didn't run
away," he said, "I went
thru a world of smoke
and smell of jet fuel.
My dog wouldn't leave
my side. We got to the
floor an hour and 15
minutes later. My dog was
exhausted but he kept
walking." Then he heard
crackling sounds, people
running. Then the collapse.
Then he sang a Columbian
song about the noise of
passengers scurrying to
catch trains and a walker who
found himself without a
path on the road, how
he had to make his own path
(By Lyn Lifshin @ 2001)



