I was one of the lucky ones with very little damage, which is a miracle considering the fact that everyone around me was ravaged by Sandy. We were asked to evacuate, but so many of us remained to face this shrew and what a shrew she was.
The surge brought water that encroached every street creating rivers where no rivers ever existed. The force of the water invaded most of the houses, flooding homes with pools of ocean water, a force of nature not to be reckoned with.
My neighbors have lost family artifacts and pictures that spanned a lifetime and are not replaceable. To add insult to injury, we lived without any power for two weeks.
As Sandy landed, I took my pen to scribe a poem that underscores some of the tragedy that rocked my Long Island town.
The Roar of Sandy
She arrived with all the bells and whistles, without omission. The trees kneeled before her in a desperate plea of submission. She devoured and ravaged everything in sight, hurling it about with all of her might.
They said that she was worse than "The Express," consuming everything, leaving an unconscionable mess. The multitude of ruins litter the avenues and streets, power lines down, so much debris at our feet.
As days quickly pass we huddle together, it's cold and we're frozen altogether. With her she took a lifetime of treasures, for this we have no certainty or way to measure. Once called, The Gold Coast in days past, now Sandy consumed our mighty sails and once sturdy mast.
But no matter the rarity and scarcity she wrought, Long Island will rebuild, once again becoming a place that is sought.