I didn’t think she noticed

as we both sat watching the television

the morning of September 11. She wasn’t

crying, she was staring confused

and aghast like everybody was, feeling

outraged, feeling the anger rising, wanting

to know immediately who and why and

how can we get them and stop them and

get even. But me, stupid sappy weak,

needy, sensitive me, I sat there stunned

watching those gigantic buildings

crumbling into giant smoldering piles

of twisted rubble, and the tears

came down and I dabbed at my eyes in

embarrassment. Even my wife didn’t cry

that early on in this tragedy.

But from the outset I cried like

a bewildered child, when instead I should

have been behaving like a man,

reaching for my gun, if I had a gun