Schools

Ledyard's Young Poets Write About Hurricane Sandy

The second installment of a series of poems written by Ledyard Center School sixth graders about Storm Sandy

 

Ledyard Center School sixth graders were inspired by Superstorm Sandy and want to share their poems with Patch readers! This is the first of six installments, give a shout out to these talented writers in the comments.

Sandy

by Benicio Costales

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The lights go out. The candles are lit.

The chess board comes out.             

Find out what's happening in Ledyardwith free, real-time updates from Patch.

 

Candle light flickers up the white glossy walls.

Outside the thump of trees hitting earth.

 

We listen to the A.M radio,

Plywood rattles up against the window.

 

The flooding of streets gets worse,

Sheds become firewood.

 

Sticks and stones fly like birds,

Car alarms start to blast.

 

Leaf piles end up in a yard two blocks down. Your daily newspaper ends up in your neighbors bushes.

Darkness

by W. Carson Marquardt

It was dark

Laying alone on the couch,

In the middle of the night eyes wide,

Waiting until the light of morning strikes,

The distant sound of my fathers snores,

Can’t hide the never ending drops of rain,

Sudden footsteps creep down the wooden

Stairs,

Thundering tree falls upon our driveway,

I look though the far window,

A dim light moves through out the woods,

A gloomy figure moves in the house an upstairs,

Light pours out from the trees and blind reality,

It is Morning

Hurricane Sandy

by DeJohn Griffin

The wind was strong.

The lights were out.

Sitting in the dark, wondering when the storm will be over. All I can hear is the whistling of the wind

Snapping of the branches.

My brother and I play card games

candles lit around us.

A very rare thing.

Boring.

No TV.

I guess this is how my great ancestors lived.

I guess they call them board games

You play them when you’re bored.

The house is still and dark.

The neighborhood is quiet.

Can’t hear the stream in my backyard over the howling Wind.

Fortunate.

Fortunate that our house didn’t flood,

That there aren’t sharks in my front yard.

Click here for the first installment of poems, featuring Brianna DesRosiers,
Alyssa Bomster and Sara Giorgi


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