Old House :Winter Night

With pulsating rain 
The strengthening wind is drawn through 
The blackest of nights;
The mist swirls ribbons  
Like the jet stream trail
And the windows rattle;
Droplets course  down the blackened panes in little streams
Pooling on the ledge  
As the latch  lifts and falls 
And curtains move in oscillating rhythm 
While heavy slates lift and drop
Making the whole house strain
Defining its age of ancient years.