Friends of mine, the Murphys
Were in New York that time
The day before had seen them in that tower
September 10 they stood aloft
Atop the World Trade Centre
And viewed the world around them
From the height
How close to that catastrophe
But they came home to live
And spend their days in Hampshire
Living still
Three thousand lost their lives that time
How many thousands more
When the powers that be
Set their sights on war
I was driving home through Belfast
Heading for the boat
Road cones orange made a narrow pass
Hurtling down behind me an articulated truck
Coming fast I feared there’d be a crash
Traffic lights turned to amber
I braked to make the stop
Fearing what might happen to us all
Looking in the rear view mirror
Nothing I could do
The truck veered right
And roared on by
I tell the tale to you
That moment of pure helplessness
I felt a total calm
Nothing I can do to help myself
I waited for the impact
This is the end I thought
A perfect stillness
Then the truck roared by
The agony of Jesus
Nailed up on a cross
Is advertised for all the world to see
Latin Greek and Hebrew
Proclaim an erstwhile king
We do not know the things we do
Look on the crucified anew
And yield yourself to God
Each day you live
Brian Fahy
11 September 2021
Erris Poetry 