The Towers, The Pile, The Hole

Because hope
is more important
and harder for me to hold
I will hold hope

on this day when
again and unlooked for
all my brain can talk about is
The Hole

In this life I’ve been up close to
The Towers
The Pile and
The Hole

I recall The Towers
I can still smell The Pile
I don’t know how to fill in
the blank that I feel

for The Hole
For its emptiness
For its open core
in the chugging tip of Manhattan

For that first trip
to the city afterward
when I was lost upon approach
because the skyline had a Hole

Some days
you open the book
and hope is everywhere
All over the pages

All you have to do is wipe away
the extra and leave just enough
and you’ve got something
the people will want to read

But today The Book
fell into the Hole
again and I have nothing
but Hope

if I want
to stop falling
(and I want
to stop falling)