drawing closer to the fire in these long nights, wistfully i smelled the somber promise of the spring from the south. hearkened to the call of the twilight haze, i knew that espousing the secrets the indigo skies whispered would save me from my slumber. the green was sucked deep into the earth, hiding from what is. does it matter? no. whether were it was or wasn't, wasn't what it was. only that which ever matters, just is just because.