According to her aunt, Ellen Sleevi, Siena Faughnan was the child her mother Cathy worried about most, because she would never talk about her father. Chris Faughnan was lost in the North Tower on 9/11. Siena, his oldest daughter, wrote the following poem for a collection her school recently put together. Her thoughts and feelings run deep and give voice to the pain all of us still share. — Editor
Whoever Says
Whoever says
that time heals the wounds that death makes
has surely never rendezvoused with loss
has never tipped their hat
to an empty coffin buried in the frozen soil
they have never nearly fallen into the hole that death leaves
when it unremorsefully plucks away what you hold dearest
a hole that crumbles in on the edges each day eroding away more and more of you
they have never looked back
and realized that you can’t even remember
the last words you said
to your father
when he walked out the door briefcase in hand
for the final time
they have never cried on their birthdays
picturing his face that will never change while you just keep on changing
Whoever says
that time heals the wounds that death makes
has surely never felt its warm hand on your shoulder
offering a false sympathy on a September day
copyright 2008, Siena Faughnan
Grade 8, Nevin Platt Middle School, CO
