This is a memorial poem for the horrific event on 9/11
which will make that date also one to "live in infamy" for as long as the United States endures.

A Call from the Clouds




A missed phone call, can it redefine life?
It was mid morningish, that fateful day
I was tired, sleepy, missing my wife.
What a price I'd eventually pay.
The phone rang and rang, I covered my head.
Voice messaging would answer the call.
I could barely arise from the clutch of the bed,
And fumbled my way to the john down the hall.
Then I punched the code, put phone to ear,
And nearly collapsed from the shock.
Mary's voice fairly shrieked, full of fear,
As I glanced at the time on the clock.
Goodbye, my darling, we'll meet in Heaven.
She died 2001, 9/11.


Author notes



This was published in the Fall issue of Sonnetto Poesia, 2005

I should have mentioned that this did not happen to me. It was inspired by Ruth Kephart's experiences with the subject. She lost her husband and once we spoke of it, and she said it was too close to write about. So, I wrote about it myself. We often write from various viewpoints in our poetry groups here in Iowa.