I walked the plaza late last night.
Each tile and storefront shining bright.
I ran the stairs that climbed way up.
Sat in the cafe with my java cup.

 

I visited a store and bought the book.
Dashed through cosmetics to have a look.
Passed masses spewing from the train.
Peeked outside and saw it rain.

 

I headed over to Tower North.
From it's revolving doors people gushed forth.
To the Winter Garden I headed on.
Entered and realized all was gone.

 

Many times this walk through the WTC I have taken.
Only to find myself thoroughly shaken.
As consciousness roused its ugly head.
I realized this place it gone, all is dead.

 

In a virtual world where none can touch
This place I loved so very much
Exists in pristine virginal state.
While reality says "you are too late".

                    c 2002 Leona M Seufert