Gwenn’s Poetry


by Gwenn A. Nusbaum

When the bomb hit, did you think

the day would be so grand, autumn

leaves glistening in a sure morning sky?

Amid sirens and triage teams,

did you think children would be off

to learn, parents clinging to them?

Pharmacies closed but you could buy

warm bagels at David’s before lining up

to give blood at Beth Israel.

Within this hushed city of missing persons,

did you think we would find each other

with even more desire?