A FAN

It’s cool to be a fan,

We work by degrees.

We just sit and spin our blades,

While we shoot the breeze.

We’re electrical powered,

Built to move air.

We get turned on,

When the heat makes you swear.

Always ready to make our rounds,

Our aim is true and straight.

But sometimes we get to swing,

And really oscillate.

We get to chill on the job,

And do what we can.

And no matter how hot you get,

 We’ll still be your fan.

Michael D. Schafer

© February 20, 2017