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C.N.P Poetry 

  • Writer's pictureCathexis Northwest Press


By: Jeffrey Dreiblatt

After September 11, I started a scrap book,

pasting in profiles of people who died,

known and unknown to me; stories of miraculous

survival: A group descending the Tower stairs,

helping a struggling woman were

in the exact place not to be crushed when

the building collapsed around them.

Miraculous deaths: Father Mychal Judge

said to have died first to be able to greet others

as they arrived in heaven. I believed in miracles then.

Later, I added a New York Times piece:

a blind woman regained her sight

after a bump on the head. A miracle, not

on September 11th. I painted the page gold.


Jeffrey Dreiblatt is a poet, visual artist and volunteer firefighter. His poetry has appeared in The Dillydoun Review, Bindweed, Bluepepper and other publications. He lives in Copake and Brooklyn, New York.

"This poem is part of my attempt to put order onto the extreme chaos and destruction of the September 11th attacks, which pushed us, whoever wants to be included in that collective consciousness, into beliefs, places and emotions we never expected to go. But I wrote the poem more than twenty years later and my notebook is still unfinished on my bookshelf."


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