The 9/11 memorial
double cauldron
downward fountain
all-sided waterfall
into a pool and disappearing
down a central abyss.
around the rim,
three thousand names.
I circle the wall, slowly scanning:
Joe Sullivan, Tom O'Donnell,
O'Keefe, Kirwan, McConnell,
Collins and Randall,
they are all here:
the names of my youth,
drinking buddies and friends,
even my own.
sadder than the Island of the Dead
dark cypresses, black water,
a cleft in the rock.
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