Helene
Story
This story was submitted on May 15, 2025 by Vicente Handa
- Title
- Helene
- Description
- A poem inspired by Helene
- Spatial Coverage
- Boone, NC
- Date
- September 28, 2024
- Extracted Text
-
Helene
Vicente Handa, September 28
I peep through a window slit
And see the lash and slash of your wrath.
Your swish, swash, and swoosh of the wild wind
Keep boughs swaying, leaves shaking,
Branches bending, trunks breaking, and roots uprooting.
You howl like a wild wolf in heat, haunting, threatening.
Yet, I get back to my bed, curl like a child
In a mother's bosom.
I survived Undang, Ruping, Frank, Yolanda, and Bising.
I saw, felt, and lived worst than your fury:
A house shaking, roof flying, widows smashing;
Mountains, barren and brown, bereft
Of anything green --
Trees, plants, including coco pests, all gone;
The entire city or town flooding;
Bridges collapsing;
Water rising from the sole of the feet,
To the knees, waistline;
Houses drowning under the deluge of dirt and mud;
And no electricity -- not just for days but weeks.
While FB friends have posted the water
Reaching on their basement,
A flooded street,
A muddy yard,
A tree falling on a car
Or onto a neighbor's house,
A blackout -- a few minutes or an hour, two, three, four, Five, or six to others --
Here I am, curling in my bed
Unafraid, at peace,
Praying the words of safety for everyone,
Thanking for the warm bed, house unshaken,
And some food in the fridge.
Tomorrow, when the sun comes back,
I will remove the debris in the yard
Wash mud on the pavement, clean the car,
And move forward as if you did not come.
- Item sets
- Text
- Media
- Helene.docx