leaning really too far into yours when mine was so forgotten and overgrown... the indians come to me as spirits and speak many things not listening to one in particular, their voices are pleasant and wide-eyes i mindlessly smile like a child from the back of the group i feel one of them know me this spirit moves to the fore of my attention though i still smile and stare as if in a trance he does not look into my eyes- he knows i have seen him