9.5.20

5 10 20

The morning toke, moments ago.
Thinking about the dead bush in the corner.
Near the fence at the front of our house.
Because it was directly in my view. 
It hurts me but I'm not being cut down.
Seeing not a soul except for magpie.
I look at the calendar in my mind.
Five Ten Twenty minutes go by.
And it's tomorrow.