9/11/15
Today I was sent to cover a 911 memorial. One of so many in a nation still scarred. I framed the mast camera on a flag strung between fire trucks.

Words,
memories,
taps
caught in our lens. Shared loss, remembered.

I watched the big flag. Gorgeous, bright, held aloft in a slow motion curl on a current of air.

I remember lessons about 13 stripes for then,
a star for each now,
and red to remember the cost.

It’s the white stripes that changed for me today. They will forever more remind me of all we lost to the sunny breeze over Manhattan. The curls of printer paper,
the prayers,
the souls.

It was a rain of sorrow even before the slow motion collapse and the skies went silent.

The shockwaves from the fall have cast thousands more souls to the currents. Drifting on breezes to carry them away from the dust and the darkness.