Gale Poem by D.S. Bell

She wails at me through the window,
The way she does during them cold hours.
Her faceless face shrouded in the dark,
Winter's evening light offers no detail,
She haunts me.

Another howl goes the other way,
This one more deliberate than the rest.
Perhaps another has come to join us,
Or maybe they are one and the same;
Whom haunts me.

Estranged noise offers up a chance of life,
But I see that the promise is short lived.
Some light does reach the turning point,
But beyond this it comes up short.
Why haunt me?

Sickness shudders over me,
Because I can feel you out there.
The room grows a little more chilly,
A cold only you could make me aware of.
Haunting.