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  • It was a year of collapsing. The towers were only first.

    I should have known, because I kept calling you
    and you didn’t come home:

    But there are people jumping from the windows.

    But there are people waiting at the hospitals, and no casualties arriving.

    I fear they are all, terribly, dead.


    We got lost three times that year, twice when snow obscured the path,
    and once in the desert.

    All three times we pretended what we saw were trails,
    or exclaimed at familiar landmarks that turned out not to be so.

    You climbed to the top of hills to scout our way, and returned
    shaking your head:

    I can’t see any way out.
    I can’t see anything. I don’t know the way.
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