The whole house shakes,
I press my palm against the window
all I feel is the cold winter night
The darkness engulfs the hills
the moon shining down on the houses
the coldness seeping through the door cracks.
I patiently wait for sleep.
Bundled up in my bed I close my eyes,
but my mind is racing of outside.
The noise of the wind stirs my imagination,
it sounds like cars are racing,
or ghosts are screaming
As the wind slows down so does my imagination.
I close my eyes,
and as the nightime swallows my house
sleep swallows me.
Van Gogh, Vincent. Starry Night. 1889. Oil on canvas. Museum of Modern Art, New York City.
Creepy. I like the personification of weather, it creates a sense of darkness or impending doom. I also like how you created a story around a really famous work of art and a relatable one at that.
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