Like Any Other

It was. A day. He got up, grabbed a bite to eat Kissed his wife and kids goodbye and Hit the freeway. Traffic was moving well for a change Arriving to work 20 minutes early Waiting for the elevator, then up, up, up 87 floors, dizzying heights at the top of The World. There was Bill in his rumpled shirt Downing a cold cup of coffee and scratching his head "How are you, Bill? " "Just fine, thanks." (Doesn't that guy ever go home?) He sat down at his desk Looked out the window, sun shining bright The cars so tiny down below The calendar said September 10 days wasted, he ripped the page on another day 11 stared back like a long lost dream Not yet begun. From his appointment book A soiled scrap of paper Found on the streets of Jersey 8 days after the fact, sad and horrible Dawning on the sleeping dread of our Realization, His daughter's name "Susie" circled In red, a big doodled smiley face and A birthday cake—with candles. What it must have been As the plane crashed through the wall The flames forcing him to the broken Glass No choice but one His arms outstretched Like an Eagle Taking flight Freedom in the fall of air… O sweet God, to taste that one last breath of Freedom. ~ Laurence Overmire (Previously published in New York Minute: An Actor's Memoir, Indelible Mark Publishing,2017)