728 nights he lay awake
in perspiration soaked sheets
supposing the craggy limb
scritch-scratching the window
was the arm
of his unlovely neighbor.
He didn’t know the oak grew taller.
That is a heckuva lot of nights to wonder in fear. Such an unwelcome bed-mate.
Yeah, what is happening right outside my window?
I just found out that my N.I.C.E. bushes, which I thought were dead because they didn’t bloom in autumn like they were supposed to, are alive! Tiny green leaves! They’ve been a’ scritch-scratchin’ right below my kitchen window all along.
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