The staircase is long.
Spiraling upward like a continuing song.
Rain it thunders on the tall tin roof.
Sounding like horses: you can hear every hoof.
How long with just a small candlelight?
Please burn something brighter to pierce the night.
Stike a match in the cold, stone fireplace.
Sending pleasant light dancing across your face.
Shadow puppets play on the chipped peeling wall.
Afar off I hear a lone coyote call.
The fierce wind around this old house wails.
Nearly billowing up like a pirate ship's sails.
The trees outside they bend and sway.
Green summer leaves blowing every which way.
Before long I know the storm will be past.
But for now we'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts.
