An old white fan sits
swinging back and forth
to cool the room.
I do have a.c. but
love my little fan that
merely stirs the air
stagnant and stuffy with
summer heat. Its soft shush
as its breeze drifts across
the room is comforting.
How can something so simple
be so comforting?
It is one of those sounds
that has the same softness
as homemade bread,
a quilt made by a friend
or a tea kettle on the boil.
It’s just an old white fan.
“The air is all softness.”
~ John Keats
