Hurricane Sandy Serenade, Part One

poem about storm


October 29th

I tremble starting the job. Ebony curtain rods are still in the original packaging. So are the wall anchors and screws. I had already lost myself to a fever-pitched rage over the difficulty of placing the first anchor.

Finally, one rod goes up. Then another. I keep exploding over every dropped screw or bent anchor.

The power goes out. Then comes back.

I finish a 3rd rod — one with a new design. Already a day in, my fatigue compromises what’s left of my judgement.

Somehow, I get this last rod up — just before the power goes out. And stays out.

Later that night, we play Monopoly at the kitchen table. Candles on the table and counters illuminate the space. Hurricane Sandy — AKA Superstorm Sandy — makes landfall. The tall maples between the Pastori’s and us sway in circles like drunk hula dancers. Could they crash through our storm door? The one I’ve put my back to?

landing on
the “go to jail” square
superstorm night

next: Hurricane Sandy Serenade, Part Two


photograph by Iren Petrova

Image Curve’s Manifesto


Frank J. Tassone

Frank J. Tassone lives in New York City's "back yard" with his wife and son. He fell in love with writing after he wrote his first short story at age 12 and his first poem in high school. He began writing haiku and haibun seriously in the 2000s. His haikai poetry has appeared in Failed Haiku, Cattails, Haibun Today, Contemporary Haibun Online, Contemporary Haibun, The Haiku Foundation and Haiku Society of America member anthologies. He is a contributing poet for the online literary journal Image Curve, and a performance poet with Rockland Poets. When he's not writing, Frank works as a special education high school teacher in the Bronx. When he's not working or writing, he enjoys time with his family, meditation, hiking, practicing tai chi and geeking out to Star Wars, Marvel Cinema and any other Sci-Fi/Fantasy film and TV worth seeing.

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