I know there’s a knife under the suds in the sink.

I knew today was trash day but didn’t take it out.

I watch the garbagemen empty my neighbor’s bin.

The baby sparrows haven’t left their nest in my porch fern.

Yesterday, the bluebird on the walking path hopped sideways away from me. 

Driving home, I could make out “MACK” on the grill of the logging truck as it roared past me.

My Internet went down.

I turned the AC on and opened my bedroom window.

These clouds aren’t going to rain.

My tomato plants bear green marbles.

My basil is still an inch tall.

I pour out the bottom half of my coffee cup.

The milk left from my bowl of Lucky Charms is the color of a bruise.

I woke up tired again.