9/11 tale

They say the world changed on 9/11.
It may have changed only because we said it did.
The terror, the terrible act, the tragedy tainted the date forever.
But violence against others ... in our society,
such feelings are not new.
Yet, it seems that 9/11 is our new Friday the 13th.

Today I had an appointment with United Airlines
to fly out of Indianapolis,
with a transfer in Cleveland
before arriving in Albany.
The fares were lower on Sept. 11 and my husband insisted that I not be superstitious.
Still, it seemed odd to be flying on this day.

"Go right through," the security guards proclaimed.
"Don't remove your shoes, don't get out your laptop, just go right through."
Travelers looked confused.
"Expedited security today," the voice boomed.
In honor of the day?
A reminder of a life before?
No, a sniffing dog was on the premises.
His wet nose, soft yelps, and wagging tail had done the work of infrared, x-rays, and body pats.
"He's really good," the matronly security guard told me. "He doesn't miss a thing."
He missed my bags of spices and home-cooked meals, stuffed into ziplock bags.

En route to Albany, I got hungry.
But the bags were double-zipped.
Opening one would create a mess.
I convinced myself that I could wait.

Up in the air, the clouds parted.
Bolts of lightning split the clouds.
Rain pelted the earth below
Our plane trundled on,
rocking gently with the winds billowing above the clouds.

We landed, and the door locks froze.
Thunder and nearby lightning strikes
made it too dangerous to go outdoors.
We waited in the baggage claim for bags
gate-checked by those who refuse to pay
$25 luggage fees, another aspect of life
since 9/11.

We stopped for pizza and got home late.
At home, we found a hen had died.
She was lying on her back, moving from one world to the next,
reminding us of how her clattering clucks and chicken antics
had lent farm life a chaotic beauty.
She started life in a closed-in space,
until an unwillingness to lay eggs for sale
resulted in her being kicked outside to wildlife.
She survived foxes, fishers, and hawks
as well as a virile infection.
Life was easier on the farm,
where she had a safer run space
and a large coop where she could retreat at night.
But life is about death.
That's how it was before 9/11.
That's how it is today.
How can the world have changed?
We merely convinced ourselves it did.