It was like a great cake of butter penetrated by a knife.
It was as though the plane were a ghost, and simply flew right in.
For a long moment, no sign of physical reality; no apparent wound.
Nothing to indicate the sudden snuffing out of human life.
Nothing to mark this strange vision as a horrid bloody sin.
Yet not with bleeding--for even the blood swiftly swooned,
And fell into vapor, and vanished into night.
The image shocked me even before my mind could figure out
Exactly what it was that I had witnessed on my TV.
I did not need the many replays of that terrible sight
To recall exactly the images.  Even now, inside, I shout:
No, no, no!  This kind of horror cannot truly be!
But all kinds of horrors truly are,
Though many of us, and others most of the time, are spared.
My mind and brain, so filled with facts and images and memories,
My very soul, likewise flickers inconstantly, under a constant star.
The greatest heroes in life, even ended, are those who truly loved and cared.
I hope that when I die, the Most High will judge that I was one of these.

==============================
Written by Michael LP, aka MLP
aka PoetWithCancer, aka PWC, aka (thanks to Luna Marie) Mr. Poet
Written on Saturday, September 10, 2011  11:06 PM PDT
78 degrees F.   32%  Forecast: overcast
Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael L. P  All rights reserved
(I still copyright my writings, for my estate)