Each inch of my niche

The whirlwind rolled in rings at the eyewall, Wild gale blew through the open tropical field. I'd forgotten to close the windows tight, And the ensuing rain inundated each inch of my niche. The hurricane hurriedly stripped the veld of its peace. Dry air pacified the expanse of the grassland, The massive flood drained into a sunken cesspool, My thoughts swayed to the windows the storm had slammed, Now a zephyr traverses the meadow's breath; Calmness fills the eye of the once-raging storm.