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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is about the hurricane Sandy that hit my home town in the Bahamas on the 25th of October 2012.

Submitted: October 28, 2012

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Submitted: October 28, 2012



Hustle and bustle along the narrow streets. 

We move like ants

Scurrying out of our nest

Looking for food

For drink.

Sandy is coming...

She's far away 

But we can still feel the push of her hands

As the trees bend at her mercy

And we all board up our windows together. 

Sandy is approaching... 

Rain hammers against our rooftops

The trees cry out as they are torn apart

Limb by limb.

The eery song that she sings is all that can be heard

Throughout our land 

As she slams her fist against our walls. 

Sandy is here...

She snaps power lines like a thin piece of thread.

And telephone signals are distorded.

Families huddle together at the dinner table. 

Under the dim light of the kerosene lamps

As they listen to the radio,

The only thing that connects them to the outside world

In which she rules. 

The rain ceases and the wind dies down

Sandy is departing...

But all that she leaves in her wake is destruction. 

Shingles blown from rooftops. 

Pieces of land and street washed out the sea

never to be see again.

Cars drown in an ocean of her angry tears.

Sandy has forgotten us now..

But the community still remembers her 

As they try to rebuild all that has been lost.




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