I feel like I'm stuck and I just can't get out

Curtains dance open as the wind rattles their weakest point.
Red blazes from the sun directly over the countertop.
Late in the season, birds chirp from afar.
The wind taunts at the room staying far its share time.
Clinging onto what power it has.
Knowing its strength, reviling in it.
Dust blown across the room shoved into the corner.
Left there for someone else to clean up.
The vase by the sink knocks over and shatters on the ground.
Another wisp and a coin rolls off the surface.
Gentle. Calm. In control. Mischievous.
The wind's chaos was successful.