Ceiling Fan

Sometimes
I stare at the ceiling
And the ceiling fan
goes round
And around
Thoughts about
My life
The way life is
Temporary
Every single thing is
temporary.
Around the end of spring
Comes​ summer
And the ceiling fan
Goes around again
Forever is something
For the gods
Nothing
maintained
Just elongating
The cycle
And tears run hot and
down into my ears
Muting the world's temporary curse
Slow it down
Sometimes I stare
At the damn ceiling fan
Like
After I lost my child
When I can't sleep
At night
While I slowly lose my dad
Completely helpless
Or when you are in my arms
And I don't want to wake you
While I contemplate
My life in lines of poetry
And the things
I love
And want to keep