Warming Storms

My only illumination
Wanes with tossing
Orange shadows of
Branches leaves needles dancing
Before a street lamp
And flicker flash of occasional
Lightning.
I count the wind's approach
By the one-one thousand...
Two one-thousand...
Three one-thousand... boom!
The windows shaking
Roof whistling from
Thunder and gale
As I sit in otherwise silence
The storm crushing towering
About my my peaceful pocket of breath.
The creaks and whispers of
These straining pre-fab walls
Warn me of their predicament,
But I rest with faithful confidence
That they'll hold this day.
So with merry grin I
Roll back into my rocking chair
And tick tock tick contemplate the peace
The shadow flicker dark
Gifts me while I smirk awed pleased
To your contemptuous orchestration.
(How I love your gentle rages.)