By Makenna Adams
The sound of a fan is a peculiar one
I listen to it now
You’d think that it’d be prone to roar
When in fact it often meows.
Like a little sleepy cat
Who sits alone and purrs
As I listen to the fan
I notice how it whirs.
The fan spins day and night
Steadying my mind
Silencing unhelpful thoughts
Preferring those that are kind.
The sound is like wind in the winter
Swift, steady, and bright
The fan is a welcome blanket of noise
That I tune into as I write.