Revolutions of the Fan

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 Revolutions of the Fan

Watching the wall all day gives no fun,

Counting the revolutions of my ceiling fan,

And watching the drama of the clay-setting sun.

Mounting my legs over my wall; wet and tan,

Leaning over the windows and seeing the rider's stun.

Stoning over the corners of the wall, I tend to break which I never can.

Making new faces while looking on the street and the children who run.

Adjusting my curtains the way I'd like and I can.

Looking on myself while wasting all the day of sun.

-ADS©

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