The Wind and the House

21 Nov

The wind besets

The starlit night,

Around the house

It frets.

The great grasping hands

Moving here and there

As though searching

For something long lost.

Moaning and shuddering

The house resists,

Disallowing all breach

And entry.

The trees quake

In the winds path,

The wind chimes

Tinkle and jangle

a discordant protest.

But the house

will not be moved.


Twilight silhouette.

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