Poems, Personals, and Commentary

Sleepless (#2)

In the middle of the night,
I hear distantly
A roaring motorcycle
And trucks on the freeway.

Near dawn, I wake again.
The freeway is humming
With many more vehicles.

Then a bird nearby
Is singing,
And squirrels run gaily
Across the roof.

And nothing can compare
To the morning air –
Not any other wonderful thing.

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