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