in the dark outside the window

a dark blustery night, and the wind against the windows

in the dark outside the window
the wind tonight is thunderous
above the ocean of trees
the tips of confiers move as giant waves
branches split into splinters
as they crash upon snow.
myrtle greens at midnight
are simply black
upon black
upon black
tinted slightly distinguishable
by moonlight
Everything is so
Tormented and writhing
In slow bouts of anguish bending at the trunk
Yet,
This sounds so still
From the inside of my room
The wind slows and stops
And the TV clock
With its mechanized buzzing
Meshes the sound
Into white noise

What a paradox, I think to myself.

The shutters blow open
My shelter is comprimised
They beat against the siding
It beats against me with bark
And the howling of my own breath is answered
By the reality of the night