NOT JUST
poems and essays on September 11, 2001
untitled 911 poem
Deborah Whipp
[dwhipp@earthlink.net]
I slip into your bedroom
to listen to you breathe
softly,
quietly,
to not disturb your sleep
I offer up silent plea
for a world gone mad somehow
O brush away my tears,
I sigh,
then I kiss your brow
I know that I am not alone
for half a world away
another mother kneels beside
her child's bed to pray
originally posted as part of the Not Just virtual chapbook, on September 11, 2002
Poem © 2001 Deborah Whipp, all rights reserved
appears here by permission
