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.
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8/28/2026 8:15:58 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
