Where once the lofty Towers stood
A gaping hole exists
Within its maw the memories
Of people never found.
Beyond the clamber of the streets
The silence is a shroud
That wraps the viewer's heart and soul
the pain below.
Where once the dust had settled deep
Now cleaned and rearranged
No remnant left on chair or desk
On Southeast corner 20 up
The grieving still goes on
On Northwest corner 40 up
They return to daily norm.
But nothing ever will be the same
As sunlight floods the Pit
Those looking down will always feel
soaring on updrafts of grief.
c 2002 Leona M Seufert