September the Eleventh
by Ann Grogan / September 13th, 2026
I remember how we “were an open target” as some say,
that day the twin towers went down.
How does that differ from today, or going back
to January 20 when Dear Leader had his way
and took over once again?
How came we to be such an open target
every day, to allow free play with our hearts
and government? How could we have missed
the kiss of evil lurking there, deep undertow
beneath a sea of glass?
It will pass, but sad, I shan’t be here then.
I’ll die remembering before the eleventh,
and after. How more has come down
and disappeared than just two buildings,
what suffering there was, and yet is.
Ann Grogan is a joyful octogenarian, pianophile, and retired lawyer who lives in San Francisco, CA. Her writing promotes the unequivocal permission to pursue one’s passions at any age. Her poems have appeared in
Querencia, Amethyst Review, The Prairie Review, Dissent Voice, and
Writers Resist, among others. She is the author of Used Envelopes (chapbook, dancing girl press, winter 2026) and her poem “Used Envelopes” was nominated by the editors of Bloomin’ Onion where it was first published, for “Best of the Net 2026” (Sundress Press). She was named a semifinalist for The Writing Salon’s 2025 Jane Underwood Poetry Prize and for Leftie Blondie’s chapbook competition. Find Ann at
poetrywithapassion.com.
Read other articles by Ann, or
visit Ann's website.
This article was posted on Sunday, September 13th, 2026 at 8:00am and is filed under Poetry.
