Poetry: The Lonely Wind

Hearing the wind moan outside my door,
makes me feel cold down to my core.

So very lonely it sounds,
as it pushes debris all around.

I so feel its pain,
as it presses at my window pane.

High and low the sound then silence,
here it comes again with force and violence.

Creaking and popping my home does protest,
against this so cold and windy contest.

A kindred spirit I feel in this wind,
lonliness and pain so deep that I bend.

Looking and searching for a warm friendly face,
or even a warm comfortable place.