Morning

Every morning on the street,

i am greeted with untamed bushes

with buds like green eyes.

Saluted by the warm breeze that 

lifts my skirt up.

Stumble on the crunchy gravel

road up to the asphalt.

Where i walk among;

deers, hyenas and tinybirds

who all peck on assault as if its daily news.

Red Birdiee