I usually like to stay off social media on days like today. I happened to come across this poem, however, and I thought I would share the last few lines of the poem.[1]
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart.
The poem is entitled ‘The Names’ and it was written by Billy Collins, America’s poet laureate from 2001-2003. In the poem, Collins reflects on all the people who were victims of the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center. Take time today to remember those people who cannot be here today with their families and loved ones.
[1] The Names by Billy Collins.