The year was eighty-seven,
The year we had the storm.
The wind howled through the night,
Tiles clattered,
Trees toppled,
Rooves moved,
And fell.
The countryside changed,
Yet only eighteen died.
As I drove to work
The landscape was different.
The trees that had blocked my view were down,
Tiles were everywhere.
I got into work, Building Maintenance at the time,
The ‘phones never stopped.
I sent men out to view the hell
That the wind had produced.
Yet only eighteen died.
They tales they told were both horrific,
And funny.
They told of the rooves
They found on the ground,
Lifted from blocks of flats,
And laid to one side.
Of the tree that fell between
Two blocks, yet touched neither.
Of the greenhouse in the middle of the road,
All glass still intact.
Yet only eighteen died.
The saddest part of all
Was that the wind was salt laden,
It killed the colours of autumn
All over the borough.
So that day when we drove to the west
Was so very strange,
So very beautiful,
Because we drove into autumn.
- Author: Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: July 3rd, 2024 01:17
- Comment from author about the poem: This is an old poem of mine which I thought you may like. I was an inspector in Building Maintenance at the time and saw the damage caused by this hurricane in South East England.
- Category: Nature
- Views: 20
Comments5
Vivid reportage, Andy. Very much tells the tale of the effect nature can have on a population which considers itself safe and secure..
As an inspector in Building Maintenance you must have some other good yarns......
Thanks Dave. Oh yes there are many good yarns, the best one is though that the outside firms we used would give the Inspectors a bottle of scotch at Christmas.
Andy
Good write Gold.
Thanks Orchi.
What a tale of destruction.Nature sure gets angry some times.Great poem about a difficult subject
Thank you David, it was a sad time.
Andy
Oh for a minute I thought this read 87 years ago, 🤣 I remember well, I was 13 and had a great time staying off school, although the carnage in south London was truly unbelievable, we have some enormously grand trees in London. You just brought my memory of home, we all had our own experiences on the morning after, that's for sure. 🌹
Some memories bring sadness to us but we got over it.
Andy
My memories were of having time off school 🏫
I remember it well, especially the trees lost in Kew Gardens, and Seven Oaks became one oak. A devastating storm. You penned this so well Andy.
It certainly was Cassie, so much destruction. Thank you.
Andy
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