Nancy L. Meek


Her DNA was in the air,
my friend from Tower One,
dispersed throughout the city
into every rasping lung
sucking in the flying dust
and the friend I’d made for life
gone like the freakin’ wind,
my love, my heart, my wife,
while I was home alone
screaming at the news
then crying on the phone,
tormented by those views
paraded before my eyes
day in, day out, for weeks
then sifting through the lies
every freakin’ time he speaks,
on high in Air Force One
or somewhere on the ground
who promised everyone
bin laden would be found,
the mastermind behind
the murder of my wife,
gone like the freakin’ wind,
my all, my world, my life!