Insomnia. Poem by John C. Smith

Insomnia.



Sitting ghostlike in my bedroom;
hearing birdsong in the night.
Cigarette ember glowing brightly
as I suck the poison in.
from the window
I see the Blackbird
sitting, singing, in the tree.
Deluded by the neon streetlight,
convinced that in the electric dawn
he'll be the one to catch the worm.

Friday, June 16, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: light poetry
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