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.

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