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Poetry: Insomnia

Bottles tipped on the stained rug
While sleep's kiss lingers out of reach
Hollow glasses, ringed with whisky
Discarded here and there, they preach
Excess, wanton waste and ruin.

The moon that touches windows like a lover
The moon, my sister yellow lights my sin.
Pale shadow of the sun's fierce glory
Waxes and wanes, inconstant as I've been.

I chase sanity and mark the hours
Which pass like sway-backed horses through the night
Coal black, limping, broke-down stallions
Trudge through the absence of the light.

Darkness hides the hills and trees
Holds my tired world within its sway
In my sagging mattress-cradle
I can only wait for day.
I can only wait for day.

Learn more about this author, Sarah Terzo.
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