Saturday Market on Denman Island

She approaches my table and speaks
She suffers from great sorrow
She was in New York on September
She was a block from the twin towers
She had tears in her heart telling
She lost one of her students then
She was told to get out of New York
She needed to reconnect to the earth
She suffered from physical torture
She suffered from emotional torture
She would be haunted for some time
She breathed in the ashes of metal
She breathed in a thousand deaths
She was a teacher a healer a mother
She was in New York on September 11th