For Dadís Lunch
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For Dadís Lunch
by F. William Broome


Itís for your lunch, I said to my Dad,

handing him a big red apple.

Dad took the apple, saying it spoke

for him, that I was the apple of his eye.

He leaned to kiss my forehead

and I hugged him real tight-like.

He reminded me that it was Tuesday,

so he would be late after his meeting.

It was 7:40, and I hustled to get going

for my school classes starting at 8:05.

The first hour passed swiftly, but

a few minutes into the next hour,

my world blew away in a maelstrom

of death and destruction never known

in an American city before today.

My stomach knotted as I retched,

realizing, as each tower began to fall,

that todayís gift apple would never be

a part of the lunch wished for my Dad.
 


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Copyright © 2001 - F. William Broome

 

 
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