The fan beats back and forth, a lighthouse

beacon made of wind. It spots you

for a breath of time, then turns away,

leaving you in the dark of calm,

the warm tide settling in place.

Then the water stirs again, troubled

by the angel within, the homeward angel

fitful, restless, a whirling halo of bright sleep.

Paul Willis is a professor of English at Westmont College. He is author of Visting Home, where this poem is kept. You can find the book here.

8 June 2008