The Aftermath Poem by Sandra Martyres

The Aftermath

Rating: 5.0


The town wore a deserted look
Rubble scattered and piled
All around the skeletons
Of the once beautiful buildings
The wrath of the Gods was evident
From the trembling of the earth
And the loosening of the grounds
That for centuries had supported the town

Traumatised children covered with dust
Rummaged desperately through the debris
To recover their toys and prized possessions
Some adults went in search of fresh water
While Others shell shocked sat around in groups
Speaking in muffled voices of the quake
It was as though they were afraid that noise
Of any kind would bring on more tremors

Rescue workers were still trying desperately
To reach the town which had been cut-off from
Civilisation after the main bridge collapsed
Then something unusual happened
There was a strong wind which blew across
The affected area taking with it the dust
The survivors seemed to look cleaner and
Could even identify some scraps of food
Like biscuits and bread which looked edible

They called out to the children more audibly
And started rationing out the morsels of food
As well as sips of juice from the cans
Which were found intact in the rubble
Soon signs of hope returned into their eyes
Amazing how a little food can help boost morale
Even in desperate circumstances like earthquakes
So until the fresh supplies and aid reach them
They can only hope that another holy wind blows by

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Meggie Gultiano 10 October 2009

a very touching piece..as we, here in our country can relate to this..same situation..we have floods, and it is so depressing. thank you for sharing your thoughts..

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Bob Blackwell 10 October 2009

Sandra, this is an excellent description of the aftermath of earthquake. Terrrible things happen and we tend to think that life was always this way, but things change constantly. The tender way you described how the finding of juice to drink and food to eat uplifts, I thought was wonderful. 10+++++ Regards B ob

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Patti Masterman 10 October 2009

Have never been in an earthquake and hope to avoid that. But your words seem strikingly honest and revealing about the aftermath. Always the thought of people buried beneath rubble desperate to be saved, in pain..can't hardly bear that thought, have to think of something different quickly. Great writing and images, like a complete painting that lacks nothing.

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Val Morehouse 10 October 2009

Simply mesmerizing. Each of us who lives in earthquake country will empathize, as well as those who are lucky enough not to have earthquakes as part of their lives. Straight forward images that haunt, yet deliver the emotion, and the last line with the 'holy wind' is perfect. Val

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Fay Slimm 10 October 2009

'Signs of hope'' are the beginnings of rehabilitation for all caught in trauma such as you vividly write of here Sandra - the whole piece is hauntingly presented and your reference to the coming of the unusual 'holy' wind is awesome.....

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Marieta Maglas 20 October 2009

excellent story poem about a tragedy, very well expressed ideas, thank you for sharing.............10++++++++++

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Sathyanarayana M V S 14 October 2009

Vivid and touching. You very well portrayed the chaos and clamour.

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Sandra Fowler 13 October 2009

Your compassion shines in every line of this beautifully narrated piece. The miracle of the holy wind must touch the soul of every reader. Even in the darkest hour, we are not forgotten. Excellent write, Sandra. Love, SandraX

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Maitreyee Joshi 13 October 2009

yes, the aftermath of the earthquake and the pitiable condition of the affected.every thing that proudly stands is made to bite the dust and a lesson again that life is uncertain.and what all man wants just to hope are his basic needs like food, clothing and water.

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Carl Harris 12 October 2009

This is a very beautiful and deeply compassionate poem, Sandra, and unlike a lot of poems about tragedies such as this earthquate, your poem focused not on scattered dead bodies or the horrible wreckage of a town or the devastation of many lives, but on hope, that one intangible thing that cannot be extinguished in a people. Though it took a 'miracle' wind to make the surviors realize that all was not hopeless, that there was food and liquids that survived the quake for them to find and nourish themselves and their children with, the fact that hope was reborn with the coming of this wind made your poem a beautiful exression of hope that beats eternally in everyone's heart. This is clearly one of your best poems yet. Carl.

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