The Storm Has Passed

Something new (to you, anyway)! The title was originally “11/5/12. The storm has passed. The sun still rises.” I’ve shortened it.  This poem was written in the wake of Hurricane Sandy.  More than the power outages, the downed trees, the general sense of havoc, it was the photos of devastation on the boardwalks that really struck me.  That was a surprise, because I grew up not far from a small “rinky dink” little boardwalk that I’d never given much thought until it was destroyed by the storm. At the time, no one knew if such a small town boardwalk was going to be rebuilt, and it left me feeling as if a huge chunk of my childhood had been torn away and cast into the sea.  Everything has since been rebuilt, but this poem came out of that place of not knowing, when everything was still in tatters, and there was still a general sense of shock in the air.

The Storm Has Passed

How dark is dark?
The world is sleeping too deeply to dream.

When the wind stopped howling,
and the seas went still,
I remained.

A sentinel.
A savage.
A survivor without memories to return to,
save those coiled metal spires, 
but rising up,
saying, ‘we’re not finished yet.’

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