Clouds covered by thick atmosphere
While slow and silent, eye of the storm
Moves to darken Earth once warm.
We almost see the whirling gale
Whose lungs exhaust with shadowed hail,
Such dark embrace in visible space
To stop the Sun’s great golden place.
Tops of trees bend back and forth—
Writhing arms as wind blows north,
Leaves fly lost in sudden gusts
On wings of whirlwind tempest’s dust.
The ocean’s deep spills over edge
As seawall vainly loses its ledge—
Waves of water sweep the coast
As Hurricane Sandy throws its strongest boast.