Mere Dust
The dust covered everything
My furniture
My countertops
My car
It became grimy streaks covering my windows
It collected in corners of my rooms
It filled my lungs causing
Me to cough incessantly
Turning my mucous secretions black
No sooner would I wipe it up
Then it would cover everything again
It smelled like smoke
Permeating my clothes and my soul
This was not mere dust
This dust settled into my home and life
From a raging inferno forty miles away
In lower Manhattan
3,000 souls were released
That morning
Turning their bodies into the dust surrounding me
My heart was torn into ragged pieces
Every time I cleaned the dust and
Rinsed it down the sink
This was wrong
Wrong
Wrong
Their families deserved better
Our world deserved better
This was not just mere dust
It was husbands and daddies and wives and mommies
It was brothers and sisters and sons and daughters
It was us
It was not just mere dust
Julie O’Hara 2024
About the Creator
Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warrior
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