Table fan

We shall now  go out to collect our stories
From a  night filled with hollow dog barks
Against wind chimes from  standing trees.
A table fan comes our way in the carousel
On top of  the  dark stories of our making.

Stories are from  inside as we confer value
On vacant things, a few  holes in  memory.
Like this woman who had kicked a table fan
In  diffused russet hues of a tiny beauty-dot
As if it is  a bucket women routinely kicked,
In stories of  kickety table fans and  women.

We do not blame the table fan for officiating
The role of a bucket an old woman  kicked.
The table fan has  views on sundry subjects.
It cannot be blamed for other people's views.
Our own table fan shakes off  its wind as if
It makes all  the wind trees are shivering with.
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