“The Names,” for the victims of September 11th and their survivors.
Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
Then Baxter and Calabro,
Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
As droplets fell through the dark.
Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
Names slipping around a watery bend.
Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.
In the morning, I walked out barefoot
Among thousands of flowers
Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
And each had a name —
Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.
Names written in the air
And stitched into the cloth of the day.
A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
Monogram on a torn shirt,
I see you spelled out on storefront windows
And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.
I say the syllables as I turn a corner —
Kelly and Lee,
Medina, Nardella, and O’Connor.
When I peer into the woods,
I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
As in a puzzle concocted for children.
Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,
Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.
Names written in the pale sky.
Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
Names silent in stone
Or cried out behind a door.
Names blown over the earth and out to sea.
In the evening — weakening light, the last swallows.
A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
And the names are outlined on the rose clouds —
Vanacore and Wallace,
(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart.
*billy collins
—
*Billy Collins was the U.S. poet laureate at the time of the 9/11 attacks. A year later, he wrote “The Names” in honor of the victims. He read the poem before a special joint session of Congress held in New York City in 2002.,
source credit: pbs television -news hour
and I thought it was your poem, Beth 🙂 they shall not be forgotten —-
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no, a great poet, billy collins
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No, never forgotten. Let us speak their names.
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❤
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Such a beautiful and heartbreaking poem
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He said it so beautifully
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Very true 😍
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Beautiful and heartfelt words Beth!
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From poet, billy collins
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Lovely.
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We all must do everything we can to ensure no similar poem need ever be written again. Is it too much to hope?
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It’s not
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💕
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❤
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Achingly beautiful. We must never forget.
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Right
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I bow my head and remember where I was as this artful poem hits home, Beth. Thank you for sharing it here.
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❤️
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What a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing this, on this anniversary day, Beth.
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❤️
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💞
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I love this beautiful poem Beth!
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❤
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They shall not be forgotten … I played Leonard Cohen’s “On That Day” before, so today I will play a Waterboys song “Let The Earth Bear Witness”, from a William B. Yeats play…
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Though they no longer call this day “patriots day“, it is a day for all of us to remember the attack on our country and how we bound ourselves together as Americans and stood proud as such. Thank you for sharing this incredible poem.
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Thank you for sharing this..I was in New York on that horrific day…
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Oh no – it must have been so overwhelming
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Yes it was…but you have to step up and react to the situation, and we had a large number of working staff there we had to get out of the city safely and without panic…as I said in the story, a number of co-workers stepped up and a few shamed themselves…
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Thank you, Billy. Thank you, Beth. 🇺🇸
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My pleasure to share his words
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A beautiful tribute to those lost in a horrific event. So much sadness. So many lives torn apart. 💖
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So many
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😢
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Pingback: Say their names…. | Making the Days Count
Not every year, but today, when I had torn off the calendar page, I thought of this day, 22 years. Gosh, 22 years already!
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It’s hard to imagine
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A chilling reminder, but beautifully written.
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He has a way with powerful words
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Wow. What a profound way to begin this day.
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❤️
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💛💛🙏🏻
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❤
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I love Billy Collins, Beth, and this poem is so poignant and heartbreaking. Never to be forgotten. ❤️
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I do too and yes –
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Absolutely beautiful.
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❤️🩹
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We must never forget them…
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Hi Beth. Judi Lynn informed me of your post. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem. May we never forget!
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thank you so much, Joan
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Tragic but oh so beautifully said 💕
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He’s such a beautiful poet
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Thank you for this reminder…
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❤
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❤️
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❤
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Oh my…
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billy is brilliant here, his words hit the heart without fail
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Agreed. He’s an amazing poet, but this is surely one of his best. A new favourite for me. Thanks, Beth
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yes-
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I can’t see what I write for tears and unspoken sadness – once more – for these unnecessary deaths…. what a powerful and touching tribute.
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❤
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😦 .. something which cannot be forgotten.
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