Remembering the Wind

I sit within a darkened room
And listen to the wind
As it howls across the window panes;
Rattling them.
The slight smell of dust
Permeates the air and causes me to sneeze.
The gusts bring sounds of grit
Plastering the house
As if someone had thrown small gravel
Against the wall.
I should be sleeping
But, my mind is alert and my ears
Hear the moaning currents
Scouring,
Cleansing.
Something sounding like a wet mop
Hits the siding.
It is only a tumbleweed
Temporarily thwarted
In its mad dash across the plains.
I lay down
And cover my head with the sheet
To block the sighing,
Roaring,
Incessant noise of the wind.
By morning it will be replaced
By clean bright skies.

[A memory of childhood.]