Insomniac, I go out to the swing
To read and laze a bit; I've nothing soon
That must be done, no not one pressing thing.
It's warm and sunny. My friend Adam's book,
A Danneman to smoke, the air is sweet --
Then through my front yard's trees I chance to look.
My neighbor gardens shirtless down the street.
I shouldn't, but I watch, and feel the breeze,
And slowly swing. The birds sing, insects trill,
And leafhoppers land on me. How they tease;
They tickle me with tiny feet. Hold still!
Around me, ants and beetles softly creep.
I close my eyes at last, and fall asleep.