Jim Lynch Poems

News in a puddle
Horror-hilarity blurred
Step over. Move on.

Such wonderful news!
Tips of crocuses appear.
A first glimpse of spring.

Just this, The Moon. The Sky.
Nothing more.
Words spring up to breathe and die.

Pattern

Shards of glass
Explode the ground.
The pattern is made.
Quick, the yarrow stalks,
My life in broken glass.

W.T.C.

I heard the roar and saw
The enormous jet speed overhead.
I watched the winged silver spear
plunge completely into the tower.
I heard, felt, and saw,
the explosion: the bloom of fire,
the spumes of smoke billow and
stream from the upper floors.

I stood with my friend;
We watched in horror as living beings
fell and jumped from the building
80 stories high.
I heard of the little girl across the street say:
"Mommy the birds are burning", not
comprehending the horror she saw
unfold before her eyes.

I watched hundreds of people race towards
me, their faces contorted into terror,
their mouths screaming slashes of panic pain and fear.

I stood there, in shock and disbelief and tried to fit
this vision into my psyche and being.
I thought I knew suffering, I thought I knew pain;
I know nothing.

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