The Towers

 

The rain that bathed us last night has stopped the morning picturesquely glorious
In its tranquility
The sun is bright its rays warm the soul as a cool front rides an easy wind and the
Clouds nudge us as they pass on by and Liberty’s matriarch smiles, at my twin
Brother who is South and me I am North

As only an emperor could my stately mentor overlooks his sphere of influence
In the distance is the house that Ruth built and a zoo, with a garden in botanical
Splendor and a concourse that does a boulevard grand
I turn and there lies majesty her uni-sphere resting in the meadows where the
World had fairs in a place where a mayor and a president left their names to fly

To my east I see the elder statesmen suspended in glory one named for the place
That is our home with a park that is central and central station that is grand,
The other is named for a place in the land of kings where the roller Coaster is a
Cyclone and Ebbets once stood
And Nefertiti and Cleopatra pay visits in the spirit of their spent artifacts 
   
As the splendor of this morn begins its unfolding and the opulence that is this city
Of our birth engulfs me
A sudden eeriness invades my moment, the clouds stare In horror an explosion rocks
Me, I sway to absorb the shock as terror riding the wings of a bird of metal
Its blood a cocktail of fossil fuel, Implants fury into my upper ribs and I am assaulted

With an inferno now raging within me, I begin my battle of preservation, the wind
Says stay up my friend I am at your side the sun warns me to be cautious of my now
Smoldering fever
As this unspeakable issuance of terror begins its Journey to submerge our city in fear
I issue the liquid of my veins to arrest this Growing furnace

As the matriarch watches her stunned silence fraught with anger she seems to lower
Her torch cloaking its golden flame that beacon of liberty
As panic captures those who toil within the cubicles of my edifice, heat and smoke
Torment them, choking the breath from their burning lungs, while Shattered glass rains
Upon them, spilling their blood as death beckons

As this inferno escalates its terrifying rage I hear the cry of my brother, for on the back
Of yet another bird rides this continuing wave of terror that Implants itself into his upper
Torso and begins its carnage
The innocent with death calling their names wonder why and a city wonders how

As the overwhelming fusion of heat and man permeates the air, screams of pain leave
Their indelible scar in the sky
And those unable to endure the destruction that would encase them in this catacomb of
Fire, exploding bricks and collapsing walls, take refuge on the wings of a cloud

I see her tears liberty’s matriarch weeps as brave men covered in the residue of fire
With blood escaping the wounds of terror ascend this mountain of death within me
As smoke, burning walls and a fleeing populace retard their progress

With the morning light now blackened by smoke, paper with pieces of my fabric
And that of my brother forms a noxious carpet and a mixture of pulverized concrete,
Fossil fuel and humanity, cloaks this metropolis in crisis
As panic invades the mind chaos reigns and death calls the names of terrified children

As my battle takes its toll I sway and twist my strength fades the joints that hold my ribs
In place feel stress, bolts snap, girders heated by this unforgiving furnace stretch and bend
Barley able to withstand their vertical load
The wind pleads with me to stay strong the clouds and the sun echo the sentiment

But as my core succumbs to a heat so extreme, I cannot endure and betray the will to
Survive, and rib by solitary rib I implode suffocating our city in a toxic cloud
And my brother cries, not because death called our names but because death let terror
Use us

As we arrive at this place in the sky my brother turned his voice quivering
My sorrow runs bottomless my disappointment eternal that we no longer live
In the city of our birth the city that is our love

As I feel his pain and echo his sentiment I look down on this empire of a state
And on this Eleventh September morn
I see our city cry



Earl S. Jackson
May 2002


Copyright © 2010 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.


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