5 years

It was grey and drizzling in DC today.  I told one of my colleagues that I was glad it was overcast and, without hesitation, she said "not another perfect blue sky."   Moxie says the sky was bright blue in New York, just like five years ago.

Some links:

I hope no one is offended by the inclusion of the Onion piece.  After September 11, for a long time I had this poem taped to my office door.


A Man Doesn’t Have Time In His Life

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.
A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.
And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.
He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.
-- Yehuda Amichai

3 Responses to “5 years”

  1. mayberry Says:

    I love the poem.
    I still remember the first issue of the Onion that came out after 9/11/01. It managed to be totally hilarious without also being offensive.

  2. Nan Says:

    Thanks for the links and the poem, Elizabeth. Much appreciated.
    Peace to your whole family – and everyone elses’ as well!

  3. Christine Says:

    I love the poem; first time I have read it. Also thoroughly enjoyed Kristie on The Dish link. Summer of 1996 I temped at Bankers Trust which is now the Deutsche building. It is nice to read stories about personal ties to the site that are unrelated to the actual attacks. Kristie’s days were similar to my own experiences at World Trade. It still stuns me how sad I feel that the buildings are gone, like memories lost. I am sure that many others feel something similar.

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