Ask anyone where they were that morning.
Nobody will have to think about it.

The little one was watching his cartoons, sitting on the rug,
A second load was tumbling, sipping coffee from a mug.
Then the picture on the screen was not a show at all,
And she stood there with a laundry basket watching towers fall.
The neighbors came out barefoot and nobody said a word,
Just standing in the driveway hoping all of them misheard.
And it was not just New York. There was fire in D.C. too,
And a field in Pennsylvania where the last one never flew.

Mine looked up at me with the juice still in his hand,
And asked me why the buildings fell like I would understand.

The sky came down on a Tuesday and it settled in my chest,
And every autumn since I let it in and let it rest.
Twenty five Septembers of a story half told,
Twenty five Septembers and the light is still that gold.
So sit here on the step with me and watch the evening fall.
I will tell you what I saw. I never told it all.

He was 5 that year and he was learning how to read,
Backpack by the door and a whole life left to lead.
He saw it all in color and he knew what he was shown,
He just could not hold the size of it alone.
He asked me if the people in the windows had a name,
And I said yes, and I have never once been the same.
I made him something gentle out of nothing I could hold,
Because a mother has to speak before the room goes cold.

He fell asleep against me with the TV still on low,
And I stayed a little longer than a 5 year old would know.

The sky came down on a Tuesday and it settled in my chest,
And every autumn since I let it in and let it rest.
Twenty five Septembers of a story half told,
Twenty five Septembers and the light is still that gold.
So sit here on the step with me and watch the evening fall.
I will tell you what I saw. I never told it all.

It took only 45 days for a law no one read to arrive,
They said that it would keep us safe. They said it would not survive.
The smoke was still on every screen to train you how to feel,
But nothing they call temporary will ever find repeal.
And a mother at the table who said none of this looks right
Got handed a label for it, and has worn it ever since that night.

Ask it anyway — at the table, in the pew,
Ask it anyway — when the room turns cold on you,

Ask it anyway — let them label what they must,
Ask it anyway — I would rather doubt than trust.

The boy who sat on that rug is a grown man today,
And the wars they started for him never once have gone away.
At 18 there was a recruiter with a folder and a pen,
Who came looking for the little boy who watched it all back then.
Some came home with their life but no limbs, some came home in a casket,
And a mother somewhere had a question and they never let her ask it.
Twenty five Septembers and it never got explained,
Twenty five Septembers and the questions all remained.

They sealed 28 pages for 14 years and never said why they needed to.
Somebody bought against those airlines the week before, and the explanation never sat right with anybody I know.
Ask about any of it out loud and you know what they will call you.
Twenty five Septembers ago, almost everyone believed what they were told.
Almost nobody I know still believes it the same way now.
Not because anyone proved anything.
Because nobody ever answered.
Some read everything they released. Some read what they held back.
Some knew exactly what they were looking at.
Twenty five Septembers.
Ask it anyway.
Never stop questioning.