His Blue Tower

   I don't believe anything has affected me as much as the loss of Dacano Arno last June 3rd.  I hadn't known much about this young man, but now I know he was loved by many. This poem is to him:



                         I went there
                      for the first time
                         just the other day.
                      There was no traffic,
                         and the river flowed
                       peacefully without
                         beckoning me to join
                       the one it had claimed
                         as summer's warmth
                       was beginning that tragic
                          day.  I wanted so
                       desperately to say,
                          " I hate you," but  as
                       I stood at the blue tower
                          designed to save lives,
                       I could only shed a few
                          tears and say a prayer.