spying out the windowsill
eyes strain to see the storm of the hour
whispering winds warned this tower
my widows rain down the hill
spitting on my windowsill
the sea eyes my tower, chaffing to devour
the chivalrous waves join the shower
strappingly slapping my stones
bruising my walls but not breaking my bones
I'll shut the windows, barricade the door.
I'll talk to my shadows and speak no more.