What We Trade

It was funny

Hearing from you

That fateful day for many

A year before we stood

Where so many were to perish

And you call me

In tears

Because we were there

It could have been us

One year later on

Stunned was I

Wishing that your conviction for my safety

Was consistent

Not lost, ravaged, rip'd

Battered, bleeding

Apparently gone

Until the Towers fell

This poem is about a phone call I got from my former wife during September 11, 2001 at approixmately 10:00 AM. A year before on September 13, 2000 she and I were on top of one of the Towers at approximately 10:00 and had arrived one hour previous to that time to get tickets to go up the one of the Towers.

In addition I was scheduled to go to a finance course in New York City which spanned the day of the attacks and conceivably could have been at the restaurant at the Top of the World for breakfast on September 11, 2001.

She knew I could have been in NYC that week. I had canceled that course to take a similar course in Las Vegas one month hence.

There was something touching in her calling me. The cell phone lines were jammed where I lived in Canada. The Internet was down and yet she took time from her day to call me over a land-line and wonder if I was OK and to recognize that fate could have dealt us a blow if the attack occurred one year earlier.

But what was strange about it and other worldly about her call is she never in the 3 years prior to our split up in December 2001 told me she loved me. No once.