Can't Pin It Back on the Map

Screengrab from the net. Credit where due.

 

It feels consequential. Like small talk

isn’t small. Like the sharpening winds have brought

more than cusp seasons. Memories of smoke.

The varieties of ash and dust that choke throats.

 

We both wear black and white. Ordinary, spare.

Her eyes are haunted. And I instantly know

another tower has imploded somewhere,

entire lifetimes have telescoped in one go.

 

She rises, lets me have the seat. I accept.

Going far? No, just a couple more blocks.

Smoke and ashes are our eyes. Not much left.

And the texture no longer feels like small talk.

 

She squares her shoulders. Adjusts her rucksack straps.

Some things once lost can’t be pinned back on maps.

~~~

Last week was the 25th anniversary. Quarter century. Enough to bring some long range perspective. 

I spent most of these 25 years in the Middle East. I was in Bahrain, at home with my infant son on the day. The baby was having his afternoon nap, I was having my afternoon coffee and TV. Awful, searing, unforgettable images. Three thousand people dead, the worst terrorist attack of all time.

The retribution was massive, massively out of proportion and affected the region I was in closely. Since 2001, the global war on terror has claimed 4.5 million lives, displaced another 38 million. And now on the anniversary, classified files have been released that show there was ample intelligence that something terrible was coming.  

Twenty five years on, the world is still at war, US is still at war. 

The question is - has the world been made safer? Are we ever getting peace?