I
Slumping into the passenger seat
Soft tears come easy
“It was going to be the highlight of my day”
A day marred by SECURE protocol:
No recess, just a quiet game of chess,
No news, just teachers’ concerned faces
And tight lips, overhearing in the hall
That someone got shot at the university
A mile away–and now this: After-school ballroom practice cancelled, too.
“They just want to be sure everyone is safe”
My words are feeble against the fear, stress,
Worry, and disappointment that have clouded
His last 3 hours of school. His eyes are wide,
Waiting for more–information, reassurance,
Understanding–exactly what I am missing.
It was one person It could have been worse
We’re not in danger That we know of
These things happen Just usually not here
Sometimes it’s just how the world is
II
His mother was a high-schooler
When the towers fell, watched the news
In all her classes, while I was waking up
A time zone later. We didn’t even know
what the World Trade Center was, discovered it then
As my children have decades later:
a tall tower billowing smoke. A tragedy. A disaster.
A target.
“Some kids in my class say it was just an accident”
We all thought so, before the second plane, before
The Pentagon. “But it was a suicide, right?”
Twenty years from now, what else will we
Know about Charlie Kirk? What will his children
Understand about the world? What else will be on
The list of things we learned about only
After they became a target?
