Daty 1,049

If you forget them
it will be as though
they have died again. Again
and again, every day
you don’t think of their eyes,
their voices, the song
one of them sang
in your third grade class;
the smile another one
had on his face
when you’d walk
through the door.
the bombs that killed them
were falling again,
the planes flying overhead,
releasing their deadly cargo.
As though the ground
were shattering again, their buildings
collapsing. If you forget them
they will mulch into history
like dry leaves, petals
ripped from their stems. Death
stalked them, gripped them,
disappeared them; but you,
who knew them — you
who were friend, cousin,
schoolmate, sister —
you have kept them
with you, have never
released them, have vowed
not to let them be gone.