[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 149 (2003), Part 16]
[Senate]
[Pages 21872-21873]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                            ORDER FOR RECESS

  Mr. SUNUNU. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that at 11:45 
a.m., the Senate stand in recess until 1 p.m.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. SUNUNU. Mr. President, I suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for 
the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr. Chafee). Without objection, it is so 
ordered.
  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to proceed for not 
more than 6 minutes.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, we remember the victims of the attack on 
this country 2 years ago today. Last year, Congress held a special 
session in New York on this day. As part of those proceedings, the poet 
laureate of the United States, Billy Collins, read a poem written for 
the occasion entitled ``The Names.'' He dedicated it to the victims of 
September 11 and to their survivors. I believe it appropriate to reread 
that poem again here today:

                               The Names

     Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
     A fine rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
     And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
     I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
     Then Baxter and Calabro,
     Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
     As droplets fell through the dark.

     Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
     Names slipping around a water bend.
     Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.

     In the morning, I walked out barefoot

[[Page 21873]]

     Among thousands of flowers
     Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
     And each had a name--
     Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
     Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.

     Names written in the air
     And stitched into the cloth of the day.
     A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
     Monogram on a torn shirt.

     I see you spelled out on storefront windows
     And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city,
     I say the syllables as I turn a corner--
     Kelly and Lee,
     Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.

     When I peer into the woods,
     I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
     As in a puzzle concocted for children.
     Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
     Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton.
     Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.

     Names written in the pale sky.
     Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
     Names silent in stone
     Or cried out behind a door.
     Names blown over the earth and out to sea.

     In the evenings--weakening light, the last swallows.
     A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
     A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
     And the names are outlined on the rose clouds--
     Vanacore and Wallace,
     (Let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
     Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.

     Names etched on the head of a pin.
     One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
     A blue name needled into the skin.
     Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
     The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.

     Alphabet of names in green rows in a field.
     Names in the small tracks of birds.
     Names lifted from a hat
     Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
     Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
     So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the 
           heart.

  Our thoughts and prayers are first and foremost with all those who 
sacrificed their lives on September 11 two years ago.

                          ____________________