noche ventosa

The wind is doing that thing again,
belligerent;
howling at my window so
loud that the panes
rattling bones in cages take notice
(then going deathly silent).


So at home this (not so) breezy
guest finds itself oh so at home
amongst the shed doors,
latticework spider
bolted on the north side.


This nonchalant extrovert
all chummy with the furniture
tipping over chairs the likes of
wild animal gatherings
dropping dislodged branches
into the pool;
the silence broken with a splash.


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