| The day is beautiful.
The warm sun and the breeze
caress the still green leaves.
Fall is coming,
nature follows its plan of repetitions.
But the bells
have not stopped ringing
since the morning
This is an unknown day.
In the streets
untimely rush
disoriented helicopters
and people,
lots of people walking out of beat.
I go to the rooftop.
In the distance
a brownish cloud
covering sky and skyscrapers.
I try to penetrate it with my gaze
in search of that
which no longer exists.
At the bottom of the island
two towers of power
are falling.
In the screen there is a sluggish serenity
accompanied by images of what was.
The towers under attack,
agonizing.
In the windows
human beings,
almost ants
that jump betting on immortality.
Then
the collapse from all angles
in colors.
Efficiency that won't comfort me.
Now I see live
deserted bridges
or flooded with ashy,
bloody pedestrians
vaguely aware of the direction of home.
But
Why do the bells ring so much?
What do they want from me?
…they sound guilty.
Today thousands have died
who is the enemy?
It is no one else but all.
All
seduced by violence
lovers of fear
consumers of suffering
Long ago
we divorced the skies
to sleep with death.
It's time to wake up.
Patricia Rios - Manhattan, 9/11/2001
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