Blue Sweater

Written for the Writer's Cramp 9/11/06

It remains boxed and sealed.
Gray with dust,
ash and tears.
She stares at it.
Holds it
and cries.

Five years ago,
it was blue.
Five years ago.
it was new.
Worn once
on that day.
Embedded with memories.
She could never forget.

Could have been her shroud.
Now it was her only friend
that has survived.
Her face on CNN,
the sweater born gray then,
She holds the box and cries.

But she is strong.
She moved on.
Once a year
she allows herself
to hold the box
with the blue sweater
and cry.